Red, red roses
by Science. And. Faith. Too
Summary: Rose and Dimitri drabbles. FLUFF! Dimitri and Rose in different situations, doing everything, and anything. Strip poker. At train stations. In motel rooms and cabins. Meeting in imagined situations. A jealous Dimitri. Dimitri and Rose on a date: "Just before we climbed in, Abe called one more time, "I know every cop in town, bucko!"
1. Laugh, I Nearly Died: The Rolling Stones

**So, I'll be honest. I'm so disappointed by the response to the last chapter. Is anyone even reading this? It's disheartening. So, so disheartening. But I wrote another chapter anyway. **

**Hopefully, this isn't the last. **

**DISCLAIMER: There are words that I have used word for word from Vampire Academy. I did not write those bits, and of course, full credit goes to Richelle Mead in general.**

"I'll head over to fruits and vegetables."

Dimitri raised an eyebrow. I had always envied his ability to do that. I had also kind of hated it. This was one of those moments where I hated it.

"What?" I exclaimed. "I'm not always the cow everyone thinks I am. Miracles do happen."

He laughed and shook his head. "Fine. I'll meet you there in 5 minutes."

As he began to turn, I grabbed him quickly by the arm and kissed him. I knew he wasn't a huge fan of PDA, which made me want to do it all that more, but the real question was why couldn't we do this? We were a normal, happy couple. For once in our lives, everything was going well. It _was_ okay if the world knew this.

He pulled away. "Mmmm. See you soon."

I gave him an ugly look, laughing, as I headed to the fruit and vegetable section.

The selection of specials this week was much better than it was last week. For one, they had mushrooms, which I loved, as well as strawberries, which I also loved. I also grabbed a couple of passionfruits, and finally, some tomatoes. Some were riper than others. It made having to check each tomato by firmness.

With all my attention focused on the tomatoes, it took me longer than it should have to spot somebody a couple of rows down from me staring at me.

He was tall, with a tanned face and jet black hair. And he was smiling at me. Pearly whites winked at me from between his perfect lips. Even though I knew without a doubt that Dimitri was the one for me, and ten times as perfect as this guy, I had to note his attractiveness. I would have been lying to myself if I didn't.

But that didn't mean I had to smile back at him. My eyes quickly darted down to the tomatoes as I wrapped them up and threw them in the trolley.

Five minutes later, I felt eyes on me again. A quick look in a reflective surface told me it was that same guy again. Couldn't this guy take a hint? I continued to walk until finally, two rows down, unable to handle it anymore, I swiftly abandoned the trolley and turned right around to face him. This close up, he was a giant. I placed my hands on my hips in an attempt to compensate for our height difference.

"Yes?"

He smiled down at me; a half smile that curled at his lips. "Nothing. Something," he added.

I wasn't having that. "What? What is it? You've been following me for a while. I'm not blind. Spit it out, buddy."

He leaned down a little so he looked me straight in the eyes. The proximity kicked the whole situation into high gear. My fingers curled into a fist, fully prepared in a fist to smash out against his face if he made a move. The old Rose would have socked him straight away. But lucky for that old Rose, his next words sealed the deal. "Isn't it obvious? You're one fine piece of-"

He didn't get to finish that sentence. And it wasn't because of my fist. Oh, no. Because within that second, a mad, mad, Russian cowboy in a duster descended on him, pulling him quickly away from me.

_Oh, my hero. _I rolled my eyes.

It was like St Vladimir's and Jesse all over again. Here was a really ripped, really tall, really pissed off Russian guy, raging like a storm, his hands jerking his opponent off the ground.

Difference was, this time he was my boyfriend. So the rage was…unhinged.

Part of me was appalled by Dimitri's lack of control, and also angry at his apparent lack of belief in me. Like I couldn't have handled that guy on my own. I had been two seconds away from punching the shit out of him before he had stepped in.

The other part of me was…damn it, _excited_. It was pretty darn hot. Dimitri's intensity had been one of the great things about him from the beginning. I loved it. I especially loved it when we're in bed, alone, and getting hot and heavy, because, well…that intensity drove so many things that made me happy.

"What's wrong with you?" the guy exclaimed. His face was growing redder and redder. Whether it was because Dimitri almost had his hands at his neck, or the fact that people were starting to gather around, I wasn't sure.

A few people looked like they wanted to step in…but one look at the expression on Dimitri's face killed anybody's attempt at a rescue mission. The angry Russian man's glare could have sliced through glass.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you_?" Dimitri barked.

"Alright, break it up, break it up." The store manager, a plump, balding guy appeared before us, waving a clip board.

Dimitri took a little more coaxing, but after a quick pull at his arm by me, the guy was released. Straightening his jacket, he quickly swiped down to grab his bag and then was gone in an angry huff.

"Come on." That was Dimitri at my ear, an arm snaked around my shoulders. He nudged me, and promptly steered the trolley toward the frozen food section. The crowd parted to allow us passage and then slowly dissipated.

One look at my face, and he knew I was itching for a quip. "Don't," he warned.

"I wasn't gonna," I replied innocently, with a small smile. Instead, I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

The rest of our shopping trip continued pretty uneventfully. Stares followed us wherever we went. I knew that Dimitri was one hell of a god. And now everyone in the grocery store knew it. Getting out of there couldn't have some sooner. We both breathed a sigh of relief once we were out of the doors.

I tried to keep my face as composed as possible. My neutral face was my guardian face. Inside, I was smiling; smiling so hard, I was sure he knew it. Dimitri had been jealous. _Jealous._ He went _crazy_ thinking of that guy with his hands on me. My always-fighting-for-control, composed, Zen master had lost it. I had gotten some sick, guilty pleasure in knowing that he also lost control. And I knew he knew what I was thinking. Dimitri always knew that kind of thing. He knew me.

Inside the car, he finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry. I should have let you handle that guy on your own. But seeing him with you…that close…" He shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.

I couldn't help it. I couldn't hold it any longer. My face finally spilt out into a smile. I laughed. And kept laughing.

An odd look of bewilderment crossed his face. And then amusement.

"What?"

"You were jealous!"

A look of mock surprise assumed his face. "Jealous? No! Protective? Maybe."

"Jealous, Comrade. You were so jealous. It was pretty much stamped across your face: _No messing with my girl, or I go for the cojones."_

"Maybe a little," he conceded with a small smile.

"I knew it."

My laughter continued all the way home. Though, it did die almost abruptly in the parking lot. And not because of me. The car had stuttered to a stop in front of our spot when Dimitri's hands were suddenly all over me.

Before I could make a sound of protest, his deft hands had shot out and grabbed me. All of a sudden I was straddling his hips and in the driver's seat. My breath hitched. The electricity that usually burned between us sparked dangerously. It was a position I didn't mind at all. Totally uncharacteristic of him…but pretty damn thrilling. Two surprises in one day.

"Oh? Has the laughter suddenly dried up?" His tone was serious, but his face said otherwise.

I smiled and leaned down to kiss him. His lips met mine in an urgent, hard, wild kiss that left my lips bruised red when he finally pulled away.

"I like it. I like jealous Dimitri. He's spontaneous and _incredibly_ sexy," I whispered slowly into his parted mouth.

His eyes grew wild and intense. He pressed another kiss to my tender lips. The intensity picked up fast and almost immediately. His hands went to my ponytail and ripped it free, sending strands flying all over my periphery. My hands proceeded to trail down his shirt and underneath his duster, pushing it off his shoulders. Our kisses were wild, uncoordinated and almost dirty. So unlike our usual ones. These were more…animalistic; drawn and forced by different parts of our identities. I moaned as the pressure turned to my neck and my collar bone. His teeth grazed my skin, the touch sending involuntary shivers down my spine; different to a vampire's bite, but every bit as thrilling.

Who knows what we would have done if five minutes in, a knock hadn't come to the driver's window. Damn it.

An old woman, smiled widely and sweetly down at us, her face averted slightly in embarrassment.

"Disabled parking, my children. You're parked in the disabled parking."

**Please review! So I know someone is reading. If there isn't really any response, I'll do myself a favour and stop. Should I continue? That's up to you guys. **


	2. Going Up The Country: Canned Heat

**This is something I wrote a little while ago. I refashioned it to fit this circumstance. Hope you enjoy it!**

**IMPORTANT: The background of this story is basically that Rose and Dimitri have become stranded in a country town. They are staying at a couple's home (Ron and Leanne) for the weekend before someone comes to pick them up on Monday. Meanwhile, there is a dance celebrating Founder's Day. SET AFTER FROSTBITE, BUT BEFORE SHADOW KISS. **

It was night time by the time we headed down. The town looked picture perfect. The barn was lit up like a "firework" as Ron shouted.

The girls would head down on their own, Leanne had promised. I hadn't seen Rose since I left her in Leanne's clutches in the dressing room. I wonder what she looked like.

Leanne had fitted me with an old suit of her son's. She had left the coat off, leaving me in a long sleeved shirt, a vest, suspenders and some pants she had to tailor.

The barn was lit up with lanterns that hung from the high beams of the ceiling. A faint smell of manure hung in the air, only noticeable to me it seemed, with my heightened sense of smell. Dry hay was stacked up against the walls, and a wooden stage stood off to the back of the barn. A band was sitting, playing a quick, fast tempo beat with mandolins, banjos and guitars. To the side, a makeshift bar had been constructed, and was passing out tall glasses of frothy ale and beer.

Ron and I helped ourselves to some ale, despite the fact Ron was already tipsy from some pre-party cocktails. We spoke a little to the others there, and Ron introduced me like a son, thumping me on the back and smiling proudly. It was a small town. Truthfully, it reminded a little of Baia.

Just as the lights were turned down a little, and the band struck up a new song, the barn doors opened to the let the ladies in.

My eyes automatically searched for Rose, almost impatiently.

I almost wouldn't have recognised her, if it wasn't for Leanne at her side. This woman was a beautiful stranger. She wore a red old fashioned dress, with a strapless corset like top, and a swinging hoop skirt. Golden embroidered flowers covered the top, fading as it approached the edges of the skirt. The colour complemented her large, warm brown eyes. She was beautiful. More so than usual. The dress looked like it was made for a goddess itself. One like Rose.

"Beautiful, young lady. Beautiful," Ron whispered, leaning toward Rose and kissing her hand softly.

Her face relaxed into an easy smile.

"Beautiful," I murmured. She glanced over, and I was sure she had heard.

* * *

The dance wasn't as bad as I had expected, I guess. I started to loosen up as Dimitri and I were swept up into one dance after another. The townsfolk were happy and easy going.

Dimitri's reaction to my appearance…had left me sufficiently confused. Watching his eyes sweep over me and hearing the word beautiful from his lips, again. Well, that had churned up some pretty serious feelings I had been attempting to bury. But here they were, right in front of me. _What was I feeling? What was I thinking?_

And what did I do? I just kept looking at him like some idiot. Because, well, he looked good. And then all of a sudden, there he was, standing right in front of me.

"Dimitri-" I started. He clasped me around the waist and pulled me close. It was like we were moulded to fit each other, like a silk glove to a hand, we were a tight fit. As soon as were came together, flush, a spark ran from my fingers, right down into my chest. I glanced up immediately, watching his eyes as they regarded me silently, quietly.

I nodded slowly and swallowed, placing one hand in his hand and the other around his shoulder.

The band played a fast song and we skipped and laughed and danced. A slower, sweeter tune suddenly replaced the rapid one. The other couples around us immediately fell into the mood, holding onto partners and swaying slowly. Leanne and Ron even slipped into an intimate embrace and swayed along to the tune. Dimitri and I broke apart silently

It was almost perfect. The lanterns were turned down, and moonlight shone through the cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the dance floor with zigzagging beams of white light. Awkwardly, Dimitri glanced up at me, his hand outstretched to me. His brown eyes smouldered in the glowing yellow light of the lanterns. In this moment, he wasn't my teacher. And we weren't Dimitri and Rose. This was a man asking a girl to dance.

So I accepted.

We swayed, like the others. He held me close, holding onto one of my hands, slowly stroking it, laying his head softly against mine. My heart bursting with sweet feeling,I pressed myself closer. He was half of a whole. And I was the other half. It was like completion. At this moment, I didn't care that he was my teacher. Or that what we were doing was forbidden. Not with the feelings that were swirling inside me, brimming full in my heart, overflowing into my veins.

I looked up, as he gently looked down on me, with those eyes. Those intense brown eyes. And a look in them I had never seen.

We would have kissed. Right there, under the moonlight, and the stars, and all those people watching.

But the storm clouds had held long enough.

It poured.

The lanterns were extinguished almost instantly, and joyful screaming filled the barn as people shuffled to find shelter.

Keeping me in his embrace, Dimitri shouted, "Come on!"

We ran, happily, joyously, laughing all the way. He dragged me out of the barn, over the hill, and down into a mysterious building that was so dark, I didn't recognise it until Dimitri lit a lantern.

It was a barn. Different from the one we had just run from, but a barn none the less.

Hay was pushed up against the walls, with a sink in the corner, a cupboard, some photographs nailed to the walls, a mirror, and a ladder leading to a loft. Upstairs, I could just see the tip of a bed post. It was warm, which was the main thing.

I squeezed my hair as dry as possible and approached the photographs, tracing them with my wet fingertips.

"This must be Le-e-e-anne and Ron's barn." My teeth chattered and I rubbed my arms furiously to create some friction. "Hey, this is weird…."

"What?" Dimitri came up behind me, wrapping me in a towel he had grabbed apparently from thin air, and rubbed my arms up and down with his hands. His hair and face dripped with water, his shirt and pants soaked through. A small part of my heart coiled in desire.

"Okay?"

I nodded silently, and wiped my face.

Dimitri rustled up some more towels. The generator was working well. Whoever had refurbished the barn had done a good job. It was more than liveable.

"Do you want me to head back to the house and grab our clothes?"

"No!" I said, too quickly. He smiled. "I mean, it's pouring, you'll get sick."

"I'm a strong guy, Roza." None the less, he didn't leave. And I was grateful.

Dimitri told me to go to bed as soon as he saw me nodding off against the wall.

"Come on," he said, motioning to the ladder.

I didn't protest. I climbed up the ladder quickly, slipped off my shoes, and collapsed on the bed, curling up under the covers. When I didn't hear Dimitri's footsteps after me, I looked down, watching him through blurry eyes grabbing stacks of hay.

"What are you doing?" I asked groggily. He looked up, grinning.

"Making a bed. What does it look like?" He fluffed the hay out flat onto the cold ground.

I frowned. "You can't sleep like that. You'll get a bad back."

Dimitri considered, and then dropped the hay. I smiled. "Get up here."

"What?" Dimitri called, mystified.

When my response did not come, he made his way up into the loft, slipped off his shoes, and climbed in behind me. I shuffled over to make more room.

He kept his distance. I smiled, and then my world swam into unconsciousness as I fell immediately into a deep sleep.

* * *

The moon was still out. The rain had stopped. I could smell the wet grass from outside as I breathed in deeply. And then I stopped completely. A body was pushed up flush, right up to me from behind. Arms were laced around my waist, trapping me fast. I was about to panic when I remembered. _Dimitri._

His face was buried in my wet hair, rubbing unconsciously against it. I guess we had naturally gravitated, seeking a warmth our bodies were both yearning, but our minds had tried to ignore. We were both still damp, drying slowly due to our collective body heat. A slow smile spread across my face as I took guilty pleasure in the unlikely situation. Having him this close, this vulnerable, was never going to happen again; that I knew for sure. Dimitri never, or rather, rarely let down his guard. I don't know how long I lay there in his arms, but of course, the moment ended far too quickly. He jerked a little, and loosened his arms, conscious now. Pulling himself away, he whispered a soft sorry. I closed my eyes. And then, swallowing, I slowly turned around, lying on my side to face him. Wisps of my uncertainty evaporated and broke, like thin ice.

I hadn't realised exactly how close we had been. I turned right into his open arms, his hands automatically clasping my trembling waist. I could just make out his features in the moonlight. His hair looked almost black, darkened by the rain, his brown eyes bright in the moonlight. My breath quickened involuntarily. My eyes were surely betraying me. He regarded me with incinerating inquisitiveness, for what seemed like the millionth time tonight.

And then it struck me. I recognised that look in his eyes. I had seen it just before I had gone to bed, in the mirror, staring back at me.

I had seen that look in _my_ eyes.

It was burning desire. Longing. Love. And that's all there was to it. Just love. Memories of the lust spell, our moment at the hospital, our heated kiss during our training session, swam before me in vivid flashes. His hands on me. On the bed. On my arms. In my hair. Our kisses, hot with fiery passion and desperate love.

I looked back at him, and traced the edge of his lip with my fingertip. Catching my hand in his, he softly, sweetly, kissed each fingertip. I pressed myself closer, pulling my head closer, moving my hands up his damp shirt, feeling Dimitri. My Dimitri. I swallowed, as he slowly pushed back my hair away from my neck, and caught his hand in the dip between my shoulder and neck.

Our lips edged closer, and closer.

And we kissed. His lips, his soft perfect lips met mine in a kiss I wanted, and was hungry for.

Soft at first, then hungrier, stronger, insistent. Feverishly we kissed; as if we were about to die, and the breath was leaving our bodies. My response was instant and joyous and oh, it was just as sweet and passionate as it had ever been, and more so even.

We kissed. And kept kissing. Tenderness, passion, release all filled our kisses, full of our young love. My hands were in his hair, on the sides of his face. His lips moved toward my collarbone, and he kissed that too. Up, up, up, inching up from my collarbone, up my neck, near my ear, and finally, on my lips again. I moaned, as we twisted into each other, touching, stroking. The air in my lungs was leaving my body in hurried, fast breaths. Fiery need, want, _desire, _licked its way up my body, stirring in my veins and shattering in my heart. His soft lips tenderly kissed my eyes, my cheeks, my forehead, my shoulder blades.

It was like completion. His hands felt up my back, up to my zipper, until he broke away.

"What?" I muttered, shocked by the sudden loss of his hands on me.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I…"

Touching his face slowly with my fingertips, I cupped his face, pulling him close.

"I love you," I declared. And like that, it felt like a thousand kites were cut off my back, and flying free into the sky. A huge weight lifted in my heart, off my soul.I didn't care that it was wrong. To say or to do.

It was as simple, and uncomplicated as that. I loved him.

I smiled, and leaned up to kiss him deeply, surely.

"I love you, do you hear?" I repeated, when we broke off. We were both breathing heavily, touching, caressing, whispering into wet mouths.

"I hear."

And with that, I threw my arms around his neck, and tilted my head up to kiss him. We kissed fervidly, breathlessly. I pressed myself right against him, burning, the fire within my body incinerating with hot, maddening desire. Desperate, delightful desire. The aching in my stomach boiled, and became too much to bear. I moaned. He pulled away, whispering, stroking my face, kissing my face, breathing into me.

His eyes were blazing. He murmured into my mouth. _Love, love, love._

…**and I'm leaving it there. Review?**


	3. The Sound Of Silence: S & G

**NOTE: Firstly, thank you to all those people that reviewed! I am obviously continuing, because of the response! But please do review! It lets me know whether you like it, and things that I can improve on. If nobody is reading, then why write? **

**Anyway! Big love to everyone out there who reviewed. You're all awesome. **

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: This is my take of the Alexander and Tatiana's meeting in The Bronze Horseman by Paullina Simons, one of my favourite writers (if you haven't checked out her works, please do! They are so good!). It is an adaptation of it. Some words are taken right from the novel. So this is Paullina Simons, with a smidge of me. **

_June 22__nd__, 1941, Leningrad. _

Sitting on a street bench in the middle of Leningrad on a warm summer day, Dimitri sighed. The emerald trees swayed in the light breeze. The air was clean and smelled faintly of warm, baked bread. His mind was miles away, at home, with his family, his mother, his sister. The groaning of the factories in motion, and the men in the barracks were a million miles away. He loved the silence of the moment.

Until something broke it.

A soft sound; someone singing. Faint, but none the less, perceptible to his adept ears, his head moved to observe the source of the singing.

And there she was. Sitting across him, on a bench at the bus stop, was a young woman. Unbidden, he observed her silently, warily, curiously.

Her hair was a maddeningly dark brunette, wavy, and streaked with beautiful strands of gold and hazel. The next thing he observed was her dress; a white dress, embroidered with blood red-roses. She sat under the canopy of a leafy, emerald green tree, fervently eating away at an ice-cream and humming softly to herself in between her licks. He knew that song; it was a current favourite. She somehow managed to lick her ice cream, sing, bounce her red sandaled foot, and pull her hair back from her face. All in one moment. He was transfixed.

She took no notice to him as of yet. Her attention was fully focused on her ice cream and its consumption. But watching her; watching her eat her ice cream in undeterred, oblivious, unrepentant joy the day the war began for Russia, made him smile. Her lips upon that ice-cream drove him insane and sane within moments; it opened the pit of his stomach and slowed the air from his lungs.

Then, the girl suddenly looked up. Her brown eyes surveyed him with an acute, child-like awareness. She stopped eating her ice cream and stared curiously back at him.

In a blink of his eye, she was gone. A bus decided to stop right in front of her in that moment and obscured his view. His heart stilled. Automatically, his body moved to get around the bus, carrying him across the street and toward her.

She didn't get on the bus.

She had turned to him and away from the bench. This close, he noticed more about her. She was small, tender and soft. For more than a heartbeat, they simply stared at one another, until finally, she stumbled, and fell back onto the bench.

He joined her silently before adding brusquely, "Your ice cream is melting."

She didn't pay any attention to his comment. _Instead, her gaze moved to his boots, his pants, his tunic, his medal, his shoulders, his neck, his lips, and finally, to his eyes._ When they reached that point, they quickly darted away, her cheeks turning a lush, blood red. His blood boiled.

She was young, that was for sure. He observed her lips; full, pouty, perfect, and still wet from her ice cream. He noticed her fully lashed, large, warm brown eyes when she had surveyed him. She had a high forehead, and a perfect smattering of gold freckles across her nose and under her eyes. His eyes on her almost felt criminal. _So young._

"Your ice cream is melting," he added again, with a cleared throat.

Glancing down as though she forgot about it, she replied swiftly, "Oh, this thing? I'm finished with it anyway."

As she moved to throw it away, Dimitri watched her retreating back. Her dress was half open, revealing a pattern of satin criss-crosses that kept her dress closed. He saw her bare back, her shoulder blades, her arms, and her skin; exposed under the criss-crosses all the way to the tender curve of the small of her back. Dimitri's breath hitched.

Rose, she later told him with a smile. Her name was Rose.

**A short one. The next one will be longer. Then again, these are drabbles. **

**NEXT CHAPTER: A cabin in Russia, all alone. Games are played. Once again, adapted from Paullina Simon's The Bronze Horseman. **

**Review?**


	4. Crazy Little Thing Called Love: Queen

**Collection of one shots, all Rose and Dimitri-centric. Most of it's just pure fluff. Enjoy!**

**NOTE: Spoilers for Silver Shadows. If you haven't read it, don't read this!**

* * *

"I can't…I can't even…" I stuttered, shaking my head profusely. Dimitri, ever the observant, calm one shook his head back at me, a small smile curling at his lips.

He unlocked the door to our apartment and led the way in, flicking the lights on.

Meanwhile, my mind churned in confusion, a tornado of complete disarray. _Adrian. Sydney. Married. _

How had none of us seen it? It had taken them marrying each other to even alert us to their romantic relationship. But it had also all immediately made sense. All the pieces suddenly drifted together and fit perfectly. Adrian's anxiety when Sydney went missing. His return to drinking. His missing status when she broke free from the facility. _Of course_. How had we all been so blind?

Even Lissa, the queen and the assumed 'all knowing' one had been thrown.

"Okay, what are thinking?" Dimitri started. I pulled myself out of my reverie and settled into a bar stool.

Dimitri's eyes flicked up from his chopping board. The smells of his spicy, pungent, tomato paste drifted around the kitchen, finally reaching my nose. I promptly stood up and started in on boiling the spaghetti.

"How are you not shocked?"

"Shocked? Well…I had a feeling. Sort of. Little things, really." Of course he had.

"Okay, how did you know this Comrade?"

He waved his chopping knife at me in a dismissive manner. "The way Adrian and Sydney were when I visited. The way Adrian began acting when she went missing…" he paused. "Well, it felt all too familiar. Like he was trying to hide something."

I shot him a puzzled look. "Familiar?"

Dimitri turned from his tomatoes and caught me around the waist, pulling me close to his chest.

"Yes, familiar. He was acting like…well, what I acted like when you went to Spokane. When you were missing."

Of course. When we had gone missing, Dimitri had been a part of the team that had searched and found us. He had started by questioning Lissa, and even through her eyes, I could see the distress and love for me. He was right, I realised. Adrian _had_ looked the same way. Again. How could we have missed this? Correction: How had _I _missed it?

Dimitri pressed a kiss to my lips and pulled back a little, narrowing his eyes a little.

"Why are you so worried by this? Shouldn't you be happy for them?"

His tone was light, and I knew immediately he didn't ask because he thought I was jealous. He was curious.

It was simple. Growing up, I had learnt that relations between humans and Moroi were…not forbidden. But…frowned upon. Disgraced. I had assumed the same position, frowning upon relations between humans and Moroi, as well as relations between Dhampirs, especially when blood became involved. Blood whores. Call me judgemental, and horrible, but it was what I had grown up. With anything different, well, it was a shock to the system. Mine and the vampire world. Things like this happened of course, but when they happened, they became the source of ridicule and gossip.

I knew that Adrian and Sydney were ready to take on anything for their love, but well, now? With the situation being personal now? I couldn't stand the fact that they would live in disgrace.

Dimitri was different. Growing up in a small town in Siberia, Dimitri had seen it all. He was less concerned by these so called 'forbidden' relations.

I swallowed and finally spoke. "I don't know. I grew up in a world that discouraged these relations. It's just…weird."

"I know. Believe me, I know. But, they're happy. They deserve to be happy. After all they've gone through, and how much Adrian has changed…well, isn't it obvious? They are perfect for each other".

I smiled. "I know. It's just going to take some getting used to. You're right. As always."

He grinned and kissed me again, this time deeper and hotter. His knowing hands slid down my arms and around to my waist, gripping me tight. In one smooth move, he swivelled us around, placing me on the island top and continuing to kiss me. Jeez, the man was quite good with all his manoeuvres. I made a happy sound of protest and pushed him away a little. The pressure of his lips moved to my neck and around near my ear. I ran my hands through his hair and closed my eyes, memorising the feel of him. His smouldering heat, his silky hair, his musky cologne. He was perfect. And all mine.

"Okay, as much as I love this," I started. His lips moved back to mine, momentarily cutting off my next sentence. "I think that your sauce is burning".

That did it. He pulled away quickly and attended to the sauce. Watching him fret over the pot and adjust the heat, a slow smile spread across my lips. Turning around to find me staring at him, Dimitri's face became amused again.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He moved so he stood in between my legs. I moved my hands up his chest and settled them on his shoulders. I shook my head happily, smiling.

"Nothing. I just can't believe that this is our life. When did we get all domestic?"

He frowned. "You don't like it?"

"I. Love. It," I declared, punctuating each word with a kiss. It was true. This life, its simplicity. It had been what I had craved all those months without Dimitri. And even before all of that, with those months where we had to hide our romance. We had always been running around, hiding things, trying to kill each other, failing, and finally, denying our love for each other.

All I had wanted was in in this moment. We were both happy. Blissfully, crazily, happy. Dimitri was here and alive. He was cooking. I was watching.

He cleared his throat and gave me a sly smile. I narrowed my eyes. "I know that look. What is it?"

He kissed me again. "Well, maybe you could prove that love…by maybe marrying this lovely guy?"

Ha. I slapped him on the shoulder and pushed him away a little, laughing. "I had to try," he laughed.

"You know my answer to that. And nice try."

He shook his head in amusement and turned back to the stove.

In actuality, with everything that had happened with Sydney and Adrian, it had gotten me thinking. I know that they had gotten married quickly out of necessity, but…I don't know. I still hadn't changed my mind about my answer, but well, it didn't seem like such a horrible idea all of a sudden. I was nowhere closer to saying a yes any time soon…but I was certainly a little more open to it.

**Review? Slow starting, but I promise the pace will pick up. Let me know if I should continue one shots. And please give me some ideas!**


	5. Waterloo Sunset: The Kinks

**Hey guys! Thanks for reading and reviewing, once again! I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the support! Especially to the Guest who gave me some constructive criticism. Thank you! I do appreciate it. I'm definitely taking on board what you're saying, especially about writing. **

**There was one thing I wanted to say though! And I hope it doesn't sound like I'm being defensive. My descriptions may make it sound like the characters are perfect. In actuality, what I'm trying to do is describe how the characters feel, and how all they see is perfection. To another person's eyes, Rose probably isn't perfect. And neither is Dimitri. She probably isn't the best looking person he's ever seen. Ditto for him. But what they see in each other is perfection. They are blind to the rest. Blinded by love and all that cliché stuff!**

**Anyway! I do appreciate any criticism, as long as it isn't malicious. And yours, Guest, was not! So it was definitely appreciated. **

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: This is, once again, adapted from Paullina Simon's The Bronze Horseman. Some quotes are direct. I've tried to italicise them. So, this is Paullina Simons, with a little bit of me. **

Great. No reception, no radio, and no form of communication of any kind in this God forsaken place. I was gonna kill Dimitri. _This_ had been his idea of a fun honeymoon? Some serial killer cabin the middle of nowhere? Would a radio in this place really kill things? I knew that we had spoken about living in a cabin once, and seeing how cabins did have a special place in our history, I should have been touched by the sentimentality of all of it.

That had been what I had felt until the aforementioned love of my life waltzed through the door. Seeing all the things in his arms made me melt. I suddenly felt horrible for being a bitch about it all. He was so excited, and he had done so much to make this work. The cabin was after all, all ours. Nobody lived nearby, at least not for a mile or two. I jumped up to look at what he had brought. Maybe this could be something special.

Ever the resourceful man, Dimitri had chopped up branches and logs for firewood. He had stocked pots and pans and utensils in the tiny kitchen. He had brought an assortment of foods, including bread, tuna, strawberries, caviar, chips and a bar of chocolate. He also informed me that he taken the responsibility of acquiring a satellite phone. We weren't going to die together in a cabin at the hands of a serial killer if he could help it.

A little bit of exploring revealed that our cabin was just a few hundred metres away from the banks of the Kama. We swam, we ate, and then, retreated to a tent Dimitri had expertly erected near the bank. That night, we made love on the banks of the Kama, hidden behind the Urals, listening to the gentle humming of its waters and the crackling of the fire. My moans carried on and off into the woods, reaching no one. We were alone, alone, alone. It was just us, on a glittering white full mooned night in Russia.

When we moved back to the cabin, we continued our physical escapades. Each time was as magical, and whole and complete as the first. We reaffirmed each other, we loved each other, we poured our souls into the other, burning off each other's warmth. I didn't know where I finished, and where he began. My heart expanded with the emotion, and burned with it all, consuming me whole. His eyes, his lips, his hands, were everywhere, kissing every inch, his lips murmuring my name over and over. _Finally, spent, and completely done for, we fell away from each other. Breathless, we lay on our backs, panted, and then turned to each other, smiling happily. _

Morning came faster than I had expected. Slivers of sunlight peeked through the beaten curtains and illuminated the room. The crisp sunrise welcomed another beautiful, warm, glittering day on the Kama.

Waking up to Dimitri on a morning like this was blissful. His face was relaxed, and he almost looked like he was smiling. We lay soldered together, ensconced and thoroughly warm in our embrace. I smiled, running my lips across his chest.

That woke him.

His warm brown eyes clicked open, filled with confusion, then amusement. His smile creased the corners of his eyes.

"Hey."

We spent the rest of that peaceful morning lounging around, eating, swimming, making little conversation and _preoccupying_ ourselves with an activity we both loved. We could have woken the dead with what we were doing.

We didn't get out of bed except to eat some potato pancakes and ice cream Dimitri had made. He had tried to teach me how to make it…but that had quickly gone down the drain. I hadn't been paying any attention. And neither had he. Especially after I put on that short, blue sundress Viktoria had gotten for me.

The potato pancakes had been eaten…to an extent. _Did eating it raw really count?_ Dimitri seemed to think so after, as we lay, spent, underneath the birch. We swam, washing the sugary sweetness of the pancakes off and then rushed back to the bed again.

After lunch, we played soccer outside in front of the cabin, in the hot summer sun, barely clothed. I won.

Then, it was on to some serious activities.

"You're cheating!" I exclaimed. The bed was in complete disarray. Sheets were strewn and unkempt. Clothes were thrown on the floor or on somebody, barely buttoned up.

Dimitri smiled and shook his head. "I beg to differ, Roza. Maybe you're just a bad player."

I flicked my hair over my shoulder. "I'm a great player, Comrade. That's why this kind of defeat is inconceivable! You're cheating!"

After a game of Go Fish! I had coaxed Dimitri into playing strip poker. That suggestion had been in the hopes that I would actually win. But here I was, reduced to a shirt. Albeit, his shirt. And my wedding ring. He was down to his boxers, which was when the game got really serious. He was suddenly a great player. He had been playing me from the beginning. The bastard was a good poker player.

"And, I think that's one for _me_…" he pointed ruefully at himself, revealing a full house.

"You! Liar!" I punctuated each word with a pillow thrown at his head. He laughed and grabbed me by the waist, kissing me deeply, warmly, tenderly, endlessly. Sounds of my protest grew weak.

When we broke apart, I pushed him away and frowned.

"You need to lose that shirt."

"What? No!"

His voice went to my ear, low and dark, "Do I have to enforce the rules?"

I shivered away from his embrace. I had an idea.

"How about this?" I flipped him on his back and climbed on top of his back, straddling his hips. "I draw something, you guess."

His response was muffled.

I drew a house. "House," he called.

"River."

"Mountain."

"Fish."

"Spades."

I pushed him. "No fair! You're too good at this."

His response was clear. "My turn."

_Oomph._ I was suddenly flipped over and onto my back now. His shirt was slipped off my shoulders and discarded quickly. I shivered as Dimitri hovered over me, his breath warm on the back of my neck. I could just barely make out a smile from my position.

He drew.

"Hmm. A flower?"

"No."

He drew again. "A tower? A shoe? I don't know! I think your drawing is what stinks, Com-"

The next thing he did was not a drawing. His tender, sweet lips had moved toward my neck and kissed me softly, just below my ear.

"Hey!" His lips then moved to my shoulders. A butterfly of kisses there too. My insides burned like lava. I shuddered.

The game was soon left forgotten.

**Review? **

**NEXT CHAPTER: Things get heated. Shouting, yelling…foreplay?**


	6. Heat Of The Moment: Asia

**It's short. Sorry!**

**I hope everyone liked the last chapter…! There wasn't really much of a response. But anyway. Here is the next one. **

"Gosh, you're such a dick!" I yelled. I was fuming; shaking with unrestrained anger. No one had ever gotten me so angry before. I could feel steam coming from my ears as my anger simmered dangerously close to the surface. My skin was hot and searing and my vision quickly growing a hazy red.

"Yes, yes, I am a dick!" Dimitri yelled back. I swivelled around to face him with what had meant to be a glare. Instead, my hair clouded my face, ruining the dramatic movement.

He breathed out slowly, deliberately, closing his eyes. His voice went down a few decibels as he spoke his next words. "Can we please talk about this?"

I crossed my arms and blew my hair out of my face.

"Can we please just be reasonable about this?"

I didn't move, choosing to simply move my face away. I was too angry. "I don't approve of what you did," I shot back. "How could you have made a decision like this and not have told me?"

"Because I knew this was how you were going to react!"

"If you knew, then why did you hide this from me?! And besides, this is my life. _My_ life," I emphasised, jabbing my chest with a finger. "Doesn't that mean I should be involved in the big decisions that affect my life?"

His face turned hard, his lip curling. "That's how it is all the time with you, isn't it? Me, me, me."

"Because for so long it was about me, was it?" I shouted.

It was like a verbal slap to his face. He recoiled and drew back, his wounded expression a mixture of surprise and pain.

I gritted my teeth. "I'm sorry." The words sounded hard and barely there, despite my best efforts to make them softer. It was like getting glass out of my throat.

He turned away from me and slammed the door. I flinched. Then, suddenly, he was right in front of me. His hands were on me, his fingers gripping my elbows. His face was inches away from mine, glowering, simmering with the same anger that burned in me. Both of our well trained, controlled, sage selves had snapped, like a rubber band. It had flung us back into a world of uncoordinated, wild anger. Things had gotten out of hand.

"How could you say that?" he asked painfully. My heart stopped. His brown eyes grew softer.

I tried wriggling out of his grasp, but his hold was too strong. Instead, I averted my face away from his.

"After everything we've been through, after everything that has happened, you say things like that?" His sweet, honeyed voice suddenly became dark, and low and unrecognisable. His next words were chilling. "If I'm just somebody you think you can throw around like a punching bag, then I don't need this relationship. Or you."

Now I was the one who was slapped. My head rose and my eyes met his. Traitorous, hot tears brimmed in my eyes.

"Fine. Fine. If that's what you want, then fine. We're done." I crossed my arms across my chest in an attempt to stop myself from quivering. I was a few seconds away from slipping to the floor and crying my eyes out. The anger was long gone. Sad, awful pain curled in my chest, rendering me immobile.

The door slammed. I looked up just in time to see the edge of his duster as he rushed out.

* * *

The key to our motel room slipped easily into the key hole. I wonder whether he's back.

A smile crept onto my face. We had been so good this afternoon. I just hoped it was as believable as it had felt. The reality of the situation had been terrifying. It had really felt like a real fight. The tears, the rage, the physical entanglement; I hope Hans had been happy. We had followed his instructions to a tee. There was definitely going to be some gloating in it for me.

I hadn't seen Dimitri after he had stormed off. It had been part of the plan, I knew that. But still. He hadn't been at the guardian meeting this afternoon, like he had promised. _Where was he?_

My hand was barely off the door knob when I got my answer a few seconds later. I was promptly slammed against the closed door, my wrists anchored in place.

Then, a voice I knew too well was at my ear, in my hair, whispering, "Still angry?" His eyes were playful, his voice teasing.

"Very." I shoved him.

And then we were kissing. Hot, aching, desperate anger filled our furious kisses. To say it was our most intense encounter so far was an understatement. China was broken. Island bench tops were violated. Torn clothes and buttons were scattered across the room. Uncharacteristic violence filled our love making. Shoves, bites, slaps, and bruising, electrifying kissing.

Small love bites were etched across my skin, his skin. Groans, moans, and wild, fervid kissing filled my world, my universe. The anger ebbed away, replaced by wonderful shades and glorifying shivers of pleasure. _Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri._ He rocked my world all afternoon.

When we finally fell away from each other, panting, breathless and sweating; my bowl overflowing with delightful, sweet sugar, we smiled at each other.

"We should fight more often," we said at the same time.

**NEXT CHAPTER: Things get bloody. And not in a good way. Dimitri's a suit. Review?**


	7. All I Want: Joni Mitchell

**Hey guys! Next chapter!**

**Some people had some questions from the last chapter. The reason why Hans wanted them to fight wasn't really important. That's what I kept it vague and why I kept it in the foreground. Let's just say that their fight was a vital part of a sting operation the guardians were running. For who and why is unknown, mostly again, because it isn't really important. **

**NOTE: Dimitri is an FBI agent. Rose is Dimitri's bait for an operation he is running to capture an enemy- someone she is connected with. This part of the story is vague. Mostly because it isn't really important for the piece. Let's just say...things went downhill. And fast. **

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: This piece is adapted from The Summer Garden (from the Bronze Horseman trilogy by Paullina Simons) and The Girl in Times Square, also by Simons. The last italicised bit is all her. So, this is Paullina Simons with a smidge of me. **

"We'll be fine here for now," Dimitri said, my ears hearing him dimly.

I stared. Tonight had been a disaster. What had started out as a simple plan to lure out the enemy had ended in a play of guns and violence. Dimitri had gotten me out of there before things had gotten really heated. He had swooped in, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of there within a matter of minutes.

It was all a blur. None of it felt real. By the time I had collected my thoughts and some rational semblance, he was dragging me into a cold and dark motel room. I didn't know what had happened to my family or friends. The working part of my brain was wondering why I wasn't freaking out about their whereabouts. _Were they okay? _Most of me was just cold. I felt nothing. Minutes or hours could have slipped by and I would never have known.

Warms hands on my skin alerted me his presence. Dimitri had leaned down in front of me and cupped my cheek softly. His eyes were dark and intense as he surveyed me. Noticing no alarming gaping wounds, he proceeded to slowly wipe the blood off my face with a wash cloth.

My friends, my family, had been at that party. One minute, I was in total and complete bliss. We were all dancing, me in my beautiful red, red dress I had loved so much. Dimitri had been watching me, his expression a curious mixture of affection and intensity. His eyes filled my vision. The music had been loud; thunderous.

And then, within a heartbeat, within that one second, things changed. The gunshot nobody had seen coming missed my face by an inch. Instead, it found its way to a man behind me, breaking apart his skull instantly. His head exploded two inches away from my face. I had been blinded. The world became noiseless. I didn't know whether I was screaming, crying, or even making a noise.

And then I heard it. Something pierced my veil of silence.

Screaming. My screaming. Dimitri was suddenly there, pulling me away, untangling me from the bloody mess as I instinctively fought against him. There was blood everywhere. All I could see was blood; raining, pouring down my head in startling, liquid, red waves. It was warm, shocking, and not my own. Oh god. I thrashed against Dimitri, screaming in blind, blind terror. He held me close, stroking my hair and murmuring in Russian, in a tone that was soothing; like a balm to my screams. As soon as I stilled, we were gone.

My eyes stared coldly ahead. I was dimly aware of Dimitri moving around, grabbing things, making sure I was comfortable. His questions were left mostly unanswered.

"Roza," he started, his eyes softening. My own moved silently to meet his, brimming with embarrassing, traitorous tears. I couldn't take it anymore. The lump in my throat grew unbearable. Suddenly, I could scarcely breathe. My body shook with unrestrained sobs.

He folded me in his embrace, stroking my hair, murmuring in Russian like he had before. Once my sobs had died down considerably, I pressed myself closer to his warm chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, his steady breathing.

He took care of me then. He helped me into the bathroom, peeled my clothes off, and threw them in the trash bin. The water was as hot as he could get it, and yet, I shivered. I was cold, cold, cold. He helped me into the tub, and washed my hair. Tears silently poured down my face as I crouched in the bath tub, arms wrapped tightly around myself. There was no escape. Even the clean water looked like a blood bath to my swollen eyes. The water was pink and still. I scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed.

My skin was coursing, _dripping_ with blood. I couldn't get clean enough, no matter how hard I scrubbed or how hot the water was. Bit by bit, Dimitri removed the pieces of chunky bone from my hair. They tinkled and landed on the cold linoleum floor. He washed my hair again, and again, keeping his face blank as he gently washed my face, my neck and my shoulders with clinical efficiency.

When everything was done, he buttoned his dress shirt on me. The person in the mirror staring back at me was a stranger. She was sad, lonely and shocked. Her eyes were red from her salty, sad tears. Her eyes were empty and lifeless. There could have been a human being in her, but this reflection told otherwise. She stared.

Memories of what had transpired swam before me in flashes. The impact of the bullet, the skull. The blood. The blind terror on everyone's faces. The piercing screams. My screams.

My eyes swam with tears again. And then Dimitri was there, soothing me to bed. I grabbed him tightly by the shirt when he tried to move away. My eyes pleaded. _I needed him. How could he not know that?_ There were no protests. His arms went around me, and he pulled me to his warm, comforting chest. That night, he cradled a quivering me in his arms as I swam into a pool of darkness.

* * *

I didn't sleep that night. I woke, sweating, dripping, my screams filling the dark, lonely night. Arms went around me and I thrashed immediately, until finally, my eyes refocused, and I quickly assessed the situation. Dimitri was here, by my side, his arms anchored firmly around my trembling body. After coaxing me back into a sleeping position, we turned to each other.

"I...it's all my fault," I said, speaking for the first time tonight. My voice was hoarse and barely there, so unlike the usual me.

A tear escaped from the corner of my eye, which he promptly wiped away. His sad eyes spoke a thousand volumes.

"No, no. None of this is your fault." His hands were in my hair, softly kneading away my worries and tears.

I looked up at him. Dimitri, with his strong face, his strong soul. His beautiful, funny, sweet soul. Without thinking, without breathing, my hands reached out to stroke his face. Just a fingertip, lightly tracing the curve of his lip.

And then we were kissing.

I leaned up and pressed my lips to his. He didn't protest, make a sound, or even pull away. He kissed me back. He kissed away everything and anything. Clothes were removed. _Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri._ He showed me out of the darkness when I couldn't find my way. He had been there from the beginning, shining his torch, pulling me from the ditch. He kissed me from the top of my head to tips of my feet, caressing me, feeling me, loving me. His gentle fingers stroked me; his big, beautiful hands held me.

From that very first day, there had been a connection. He had felt it too. Sitting across me in the interrogation room, his face impassive, he had felt it too. He could say whatever he wanted to say. There was no denying it. That electricity. That connection with a familiar soul that was unfamiliar. It was too strong to have ignored it, or even felt it. Despite his reluctance, he had swallowed my heart, cleaved his way, and poured himself in. He had poisoned me.

For months we had resisted. Despite the stolen moments, touches, kisses, smiles, we had pulled away. Now, the walls were down. We had been through too much. The excuses all seemed silly more than anything now.

And I knew, as his lips murmured my name and moved across my skin, along my hair, along my forehead, that he loved me as much as I loved him. Maybe even more. Our souls met in a physical reconciliation that was spell binding and beautiful. Our hearts were in sync, our souls were one. His kisses, his warmth, his strength, washed away all my fears, tears and anxieties. He beat the shadows away from me and saved me again. My tears ran free as I prayed, yearned, cried out for him, kissing his face, his hair, his lips with my salty, coral nectar lips. We searched together for our sweet abandon.

Afterward, we lay as close as possible, entangled, soldered, welded together, bare skin to bare skin. We were barely breathing, our lips nearly touching, our arms around each other. I kissed his pulsing throat, his heaving chest, his beautiful eyes and his scarred heart.

I slept better than I ever had in months, maybe even years. My dreams were beautiful and soundless. _I was kissed. I was loved. By Dimitri. And I loved him back. He whispered to me that I'm beautiful. And I felt beautiful again._ Beautiful, and alive.

Dimitri, _you're_ beautiful, I whispered, watching his sleeping face. _You have a perfect face, you have a perfect scarred heart. You have arms that raise you above me, raising me. You have strength- for everything- you have legs for the long run, you've got it all in spades, and I can't believe you gave it all to me tonight._

**Review? So I have two pieces for the next chapter:**

**A scene adapted from Crazy, Stupid Love. Or a piece about Rose and Dimitri in Russia. **

**Which one do you guys want to see first? Let me know so I can post that chapter up next!**


	8. Here Comes The Sun: The Beatles

**So, most people voted for Dimitri and Rose in Russia. Here you go! The last scene is adapted from **_**The Bronze Horseman**_**, once again. Huge, huge credit to Paullina Simons. The last section is her writing, quoted directly from the second book in her trilogy, **_**The Bridge To Holy Cross**_** (aka Tatiana and Alexander).**

**The other two scenes are my own creation. They are actually a recounting of what happened to my teacher when he went to Russia. His friend was pick pocketed, and he ended up in this horrible hotel as a result of his friend. Suffice to say, Russia wasn't the problem. It was the friend. **

**Enjoy!**

I couldn't believe our luck. _What the hell had I done?_

So, yeah. The hotel booking had all been on me. In my defence, the room had definitely not looked like this on the Internet. If we had seen the real thing, hell, if anyone had seen the real thing, the place would have shut down eons ago.

"I can't, I just can't." Bile built up in my throat. The room was beyond filthy. The carpet was sticky and mushy, and dirty as hell. It didn't look like it had been cleaned in months, and was an odd brown colour. I assumed the original colour had been white or cream. The rest had to be dirt. The thought made my stomach turn.

Dimitri cringed.

"I'll go down and talk to the person at the desk."

Dimitri was back 5 minutes later, huffing. I had a feeling he had yelled at the guy at the desk. I thought I had heard some shouting, but had simply shrugged it off. I raised my eyebrows. He shook his head. I groaned.

"We'll just go somewhere else," Dimitri muttered. His sharp eyes surveyed the room. The man who was always intent on turning every experience into a good one looked sick. Even he couldn't give this a good spin. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep the disgust off his face.

"No, we paid for this. We'll…make it work."

I felt bad for Dimitri. He had wanted to show me the great side of his country. This wasn't exactly one of his highlights. Then again, this had been my fault. And my responsibility. But as usual, he didn't complain. He simply turned into that efficient, controlled person and set about making the room as habitable as possible.

I spurred into action too, tying a bandana around my head and rolling up the bottom of my overalls. We walked around the room with plastic bags around our feet. The floor in the bathroom was first. The word unhygienic didn't seem to cover the extent of the bathroom's dirtiness. Monstrous and vomit inducing seemed better suited.

After everything, exhausted and bone tired, we settled down to watch a little TV, but we couldn't find the remote. We finally found it behind the coach. The trouble was, neither of us were willing to touch it. Finger nails were embedded in the blackened carpet under the coach. We turned to each other. Enough was enough.

After some shouting at the man at the desk, this time by me, we headed out. Our eyes both met the same place at the same time. It was the Holy Grail of hotels. Like heaven itself. The hotel across the street was beautiful. It was colourful, well lit, and shimmering with gold and glass. I was tempted to burst into tears or run across the street, waving my arms and screaming Hallelujah. Dimitri spoke to the lady at the desk in low, hushed tones. He waved me over when they were done, and we headed up to our room.

This room was a complete 360 to what we had just experienced. The carpet was cream, thick, and smelled faintly like lilac. The room was painted in different shades of pastel colours. The walls were adorned with beautiful oil paintings of scenery and sights. The lamps were golden and glimmered bright. A terrace overlooked the streets below. We could just see St Basil's in the distance, winking at us with its bright colours.

I turned to smile at him. Then I ran into his open arms.

* * *

"Hey, this place looks nice," I grabbed Dimitri's hand and led us into a sophisticated looking café. Its name was edged out in golden letters and its bright lights could be seen from the window.

We were halfway through the doors when I felt something. A hand in my pocket. I immediately whipped around and grabbed the assailant by the neck. An old lady, a babushka who had bumped into us on the way in, jumped and threw my wallet into the air. Several people looked around to observe the commotion.

"Hey, what's the deal lady?"

The lady didn't reply. More people began staring, turning completely away from their conversations and food. I loosened by grip and swiped my wallet off the floor. The lady ran off.

I turned to Dimitri, outraged. "What the hell?"

Dimitri didn't reply, keeping his reaction to a simple smile. He led me to a table. The menu was pretty standard and thankfully written in English. I ordered a coffee and a sandwich. Dimitri did the same. We were in the middle of a pretty intense conversation about the guardian's latest plans, when I heard an odd scraping sound.

Somebody had pulled up a chair at our table and sat down. I hoped the bewilderment that unquestionably covered my face didn't come off as rude, but seriously. _What the hell? _I stared.

"It's a custom," Dimitri told me when we left the café.

I grabbed his hand and leaned in, keeping my voice low. "What? Randomly sitting at tables with strangers? Without invitation?"

He laughed.

* * *

"Seriously, Comrade. Where are we going?" I reached out blindly with both hands and grabbed at empty patches of air.

Dimitri laughed and pushed me forward, his hands firmly anchoring me and steering me in some unknown direction.

I can't believe I agreed to this. He had me at blindfold. I thought it would be fun at first. But in reality? Walking around in a Russian city with a blindfold on was something I hadn't really thought through. But in all honestly, I would have done anything for the man. He was back in his home country, he was showing me around. He was happier than I had seen him in months, awash with unabandoned joy. It was something we had always wished we could have done. And now that dream was a reality. And I had to admit...Ireally was enjoying myself. His happiness and joy was infectious.

"Just wait, Roza," Dimitri whispered, his lips at my ear. "Almost there."

"This better be worth it," I warned.

"Alright, here it is." The blindfold fell off.

What stood in front of me was astoundingly beautiful, and immediately beyond words. I was struck still. I also recognised it instantly. Dimitri had only spoken about it a couple of times.

"The Summer Garden?" I guessed. The long paths, the towering elms, the Greek statues and the rose branches were characteristic enough.

His smile grew jubilant, lighting up his features in a way that made him even more attractive than usual. There was more to the surprise, he revealed. He had brought some vodka, a little ham, some bread, some black caviar, and finally, a bar of chocolate. My eyes lit up in zeal.

So we spent the afternoon, eating under the summer trees. We drank a little vodka and stayed close to each other, lying on a bench on a blissful, Russian summer evening.

"I love this."

Dimitri's lips pressed a kiss to my hair. "Me too. It's perfect."

I smiled and looked up at him. And then that smile dimmed. It wasn't going to last. In fact, these moments were as peaceful as our lives were ever going to get. For once, it was just us. Out in the sunlight, away from all the darkness, and fear, and creatures that were out there to kill us.

We would go back to our responsibilities and problems, but right now, we were here in our place in the Summer Garden. It was warm, bright and sunset in the Summer Garden.

As we walked across the Field of Mars, crossed in front of the Winter Palace and finally, along the Neva, the sun shone bright and light in Saint Petersburg. We walked slowly, close, not saying much, holding hands. Sometimes, Dimitri said something about his childhood that made me heart burn in joy. _Winters of sledding across the frozen Neva, the northern lights winking down at their child souls._ We crossed again along the green, alive, and dusky Summer Garden.

Outside of the garden gates, our lives were back to reality, the Summer Garden as far away from reality as we could have it. But it couldn't have marred that very moment between us.

_Because there is one moment, one moment in eternity. Before we find out the truth about one another. But that simple moment is the one that propels us through life- what we felt like at the very edge of our future, standing over the abyss of our forbidden feelings, before we knew for sure we loved. Before we knew for sure we loved forever. _

_Before our meeting, before Victor, you were there, heaping your miracles upon me, your love upon me, alloying us together for life, our platinum life. And now, here, we walk through the Summer Garden. We laughed, we held each other, we smiled, we loved. Falling in love with you all over again in the Summer Garden, on a warm, perfect summer afternoon is the moment that propels me through life. _

**Review?**

**And another thing! Any special requests? I do take them into consideration. So please, shoot me some ideas!**


	9. Hypnotized: Fleetwood Mac

**DISCLAIMER: Adapted from the meeting scene in a Hindi film called Ram Leela (it's an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet). Since this is an Indian film, I've retained the look in the movie for the characters in the story. So, Rose and Dimitri do seem Indian...maybe we could pretend that they're just visiting! I don't know! Oh! And since I am keeping Rose "Indian," she has tattoos. I am told that Gujarati people have tattoos. It's a thing. Juliet (aka Leela) has some in the film.**

**Oh! And if you wonder why people touch her feet, it's because it's considered a sign of respect India. It's usually the opposite way, but this case is different because of who she is. **

**ONE MORE IMPORTANT THING: They are celebrating Holi, the festival of colours. In India, they throw around coloured powder. Sometimes they wet each other before throwing the colour. Anyway! There is also dancing, because Gujarati people have beautiful, beautiful folk dances. If you'd like a visualisation, look up the song, _Lahu Munh Lag Gaya_ from Ram Leela. I hope I've done the scene justice!**

I couldn't say exactly when it was that I saw her. She was racing, her hands pulling her skirt up, running full hilt with sweet, young abandon. I stilled, frozen, rooted to my spot. My eyes followed her. I blinked. And then she was running into me. We collided, and she stumbled back, looking up at me curiously. Her chest heaved, a smile frozen on her lips. This close, I could observe her carefully.

She wore a long yellow lehenga. Her dark hair was down in waves, reaching her waist in bouncing, lustrous waves. Her face was alight with excitement, her eyes twinkling with amusement that had stilled. She was stunned. Her skin was dotted in places, a black bindi between her eyebrows and a tattoo of three dots on her sternum.

The world came to a standstill. It grew silent and noiseless. All I could hear was her breathing, haggard and slowing. Breaking out of a similar trance, she smiled brightly, and then, before I could breathe, she was off in a blur of yellow, her anklets clinking happily, her hair bouncing. Her footsteps were washed away by the colours thrown into the air, filling my vision with brilliant shades of red, green and blue.

* * *

The back of my neck prickled, and I knew someone was watching me. I turned. And then I froze. Unbidden, a smile pulled at my lips. The woman from earlier leaned out over the terrace. She had changed her clothing, had bound her hair up, and now wore big, glimmering silver earrings and a sweet nose ring. It reflected light off the sun and almost winked at me. But she was the same woman, there was no questioning it. I pointed uncertainly at her. She nodded, a smile curling at her lips. Her hand went up, and she released colourful powder into the air. She winked and then started to walk. I smiled.

"Hey!" I called. She stopped, her eyes meeting my questionably. I waved for her to come down. She pursed her lips and brushed her hands of the colours. A purple cloud formed at her hands. And then she was gone.

* * *

She appeared again downstairs, finally appearing for the festivities. She wasn't alone though. Someone was at her side, pulling her along. They both came to a stop in front a woman I recognised. Janine Hathaway. Which means that she's….whoa.

Rose really was the perfect name for her. She was beautiful, like the petals, but prickly, like those horrible thorns. _She's a firecracker_, that's what she is. I watched her from a distance, my heart growing fonder.

She was kind to her mother, despite the fact she clearly didn't feel any endearment toward her. Her eyes wondered. At one point, I was sure they had brushed over me. Nevertheless, she was nice to a man her mother introduced. I smirked when she stepped backward when he attempted to touch her feet, and she ran. My heart leapt. Seeing her draw near, I quickly blocked her path. She looked up at me the way she had before, smiling. Difference was that this time, there was a recognition in her features. And if I wasn't mistaken, a little desire.

I smiled, and then I reached down to touch her feet the way the man had tried. She jumped back, making a small noise. And then, with a mischievous glint in her beautiful, beautiful eyes, she stepped down, hard, on my hand. Before a noise of pain escaped my lips, she ran, her anklets jingling, her red dress trailing after her.

I flexed my hand and smiled. And then I followed.

* * *

Every time I got close, she put someone between us. I finally chased her behind a big lamp and cornered her when she turned. She jerked her head up asking me silently, _What? _I grabbed a handful of colour and nodded toward my closed fist. It was simple. She was colourless. And I wanted to be the first one to colour her beautiful face. She slapped my hand away and laughed, the colour bursting out of my hand and off into the wind.

Tired of the games, I walked away, moving around the statue and away from her. Inside, I smiled. I knew she would follow. And she did. She appeared before me, leaning against the statue, her hand full of red powder, her lip caught between her teeth. Her expression proceeded to turn serious, her fingertips brushing the powder.

And then, she proceeded to slowly run her coloured fingers on her cheek. I leaned forward and quickly dabbed my fingers in the red, touching my face with the red. Her next gesture made my blood churn and opened the pit of my stomach. Keeping her eyes locked on me, she ran her fingers along the curve of her neck; painfully slowly, burning it red. I swallowed. I wanted my fingers on her, touching her skin, feeling it, breathing her in.

But I played her game. I almost touched the powder, but then touched it to my hair, and then to the corner of my lips. Her smile slackened, her eyes burning with red, molten desire. Clearly tired of playing games, and in a gesture that threw me completely off my feet, she threw the red power in the air, and roughly grabbed me by the shirt.

And she kissed me.

She leaned in, her eyes still locked with mine, open, clear and hard, and kissed me. I barely responded before she pulled away, her dark brown eyes open and sharp, observing me. My eyes moved down to her lips, stained, painted with red from mine, stunned. My heart coiled with hot desire. I couldn't move. She winked, took a step back, and walked away.

Dazed, I moved from behind the statue to watch her join the circle of dancers in the middle of the room. I observed her for a moment, her red mirrored dress billowing around her, her earrings swinging in the air as she jumped with joyful abandon. And then I joined her. We danced, we clapped, we watched each other. The music was loud, the drums beating harder as the pace picked up. Her anklets jingled in time with the music, her earrings clinking cheerfully with each movement of her head. This close, I could smell her sweet scent, a perfume of incense and orange. I stopped once to admire her, and she playfully shoved me, before sweeping me back into the dance. We spun around each other in dizzying, colourful, thudding circles.

I wish I had gotten to say something, anything to her. But before I could utter a word, I was being dragged off, back home. My hand came up to gesture her a bye, but I couldn't be sure whether she had seen it. Her dark eyes were the last thing I saw before a colourful burst of red swallowed her, and she vanished into the crowd.

**Review?**


	10. Whole Lotta Love: Led Zeppelin

**Hey guys! Here's the next one! **

**DISCLAIMER: Once again, inspired by The Bronze Horseman. The laundry scene is Paullina Simon's scene, which I adapted. The idea of the last scene is all me. **

**Since for some reason, I can't see my reviews, and hence, can't reply, I have to answer something here!**

**One person asked whether I was for the East? A little confused. What does that mean? Which country are you referring to? India, Pakistan, Bangladesh?**

**Another person actually checked out the song! I'm glad you liked it! If you'd like to watch it, I would recommend just browse for a copy on Google, like you do with English films. But, the trouble is finding a copy with subtitles. I don't go to one site to watch Hindi films, so I can't recommend one. Especially those sites with subtitles, since I don't need them. Sorry! I wasn't a huge fan of the film, but you like it! Visually, it's absolutely stunning. The film is by a guy who is basically the Indian equivalent of James Cameron. Another one of his films that is just gorgeous is Devdas. It stars the beautiful Shahrukh Khan, and Aishwarya Rai. **

"Here, here. Give me that," Rose said brightly, smiling a sweet smile. Her hands were on the clothes basket in my mother's hands.

My mother attempted to wrest the basket away from her. "No, no. You're the guest. Let me."

I hurried forward, coming to rest behind Rose. I felt the warmth of her body, smelt the sweet scent of honeysuckle of her skin. I was careful to keep my reaction to her stoic. A smile almost left my lips. "Rose wants to see the river anyway. I'll show her, and_ I'll_ do the clothes."

My mother's eyes narrowed.

"Its fine, Olena. And I can promise that he will most definitely be doing the clothes."

I carried the basket and Rose held the washboard and soap. We walked fast, and barely spoke on the way there. But the unspoken words lingered between us. We were both giddy with happiness. Rose blushed when she caught me staring at her once. My stomach burned.

"Your dress will get wet," I pointed out, when she waded into the river, wetting the washboard and soap.

She shook her head. "Just a little. Pass me the clothes, will you?"

The sound of the clothes as she scraped them against the board filled the silence. I slipped my feet into the water and watched her on the bank, taking the opportunity of tranquillity to observe her from a distance. She was always beautiful, no matter what she did with herself. Today, her hair was pulled back in a loose plait, the tip of her hair just touching the knee deep water of the river. Her sleeveless white dress was billowing slightly in the breeze. Her face was strewn in concentration, a small frown creasing her eyebrows. She was adorable.

I was shaken out of my thoughts when I heard her emit a small cry. She dropped the washboard and grabbed her wrist.

I leapt up into the water. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing." Her skin was pink, but not broken. I pushed her toward the bank never the less.

"You stay there, I'll do this. You can hand me the clothes." I pulled off my shirt. Rose blushed, her cheeks burning a sweet pink, and averted her eyes. A smile tugged at my lips.

* * *

There was something funny about the way Dimitri stood in the water, shirtless, scrubbing away at the clothes. It was incredibly domestic, and something I never thought I would see a soldier do, let alone Dimitri. He was efficient and sincere, and treated the task with upmost importance and seriousness. Like he always did, with anything he did.

Unable to help myself, I launched myself at him, and pushed him into the water. We fell together into the cold, cold water, emerging dripping and spluttering desperately.

I laughed, and desperately pulled hair away from my eyes. Dimitri shook the water out of his face and tried to promptly grab me, grinning from ear to ear. As quick as I could, I covertly slithered out of his grip, and ran out of the water. Dimitri's deft hands were on my waist within moments. I yelped. He lifted me up into the air, up into the warm, warm morning sunlight, dripping and drenched from head to toe. I lifted my face up to the heavens. And then we were slipping backwards, falling, falling, back into the water. I screamed, my voice muffled from the water, coming out instead in furious bubbles. When I broke the surface, Dimitri hovered over me.

Grinning, my hands shot out and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him under the water. When he came back up for air, he quickly seized me around the waist and pulled me under the water with him.

After a few more pushes and shoves, I called a truce. "The clothes," I recalled, shoving Dimitri away, rubbing water out of my eyes.

They bobbed along the surface of the water, cheerfully, but sadly, down river. We both jumped after the clothes, laughing, and joined each other at the bank. My hair dripping, I undid the plait and shook droplets from my hair, squeezing it dry. With all the months without a haircut, my hair had grown long, reaching just above my knee. I looked up when I felt Dimitri's eyes on me. He stared, his hands grasping the wet clothes tightly.

I smiled. "What? What are you looking at me like that for?"

And then he came at me, hard and fast, and completely out of the blue. I don't know who kissed who first. Almost simultaneously, he leaned down, and I leaned up, and our lips met in a sweet, water soaked kiss.

His hands were on my waist, on my shoulders, on my thigh, feeling my wet skin through my wet clothing. He licked my lips, kissed them, devoured them. He kissed the curve of my neck, running his lips across the droplets of water there, scooping them up. An ache grew in my stomach, imploding and incinerating from within. Our wet mouths wouldn't have stopped. But someone was coming. And they whistled. We both broke apart, and turned.

"What are you guys doing?" Dimitri's sister, Viktoria inquired. She smiled, a smile so like Dimitri's that it was unsettling. We broke apart silently and gathered the clothes. With my face turned away, I smiled. Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn that I saw Dimitri smiling too.

* * *

Evening came quickly, much like it did every day in small village town like this. We sat outside for dinner. Dimitri was ordered to set the table, and I filled the vase. I cut some pink and red roses from the garden, and arranged them in a glass vase in the centre of the table. The whole time, I was painfully aware of Dimitri's proximity and his eyes on me.

I glanced up when I finished and our eyes caught. I turned quickly, and hid a small smile.

My dinner had everyone full within minutes. Pungent, delicious smells permeated the air, spreading down the table in waves. Fireflies and bees flew out lazily over the spread. Roast chicken, sautéed vegetables, potatoes and finally, fresh fruit and homemade vanilla ice cream.

Sonya leaned back from the table and patted her rotund stomach soundly.

"Fabulous," she announced sleepily.

Dimitri's reaction was hard to read. His face was indifferent, like it always was.

He had already started in on the dishes when I made my way into the kitchen. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and he was elbow deep in soap suds. I smiled, and pulled my hair back into a plait.

"So…did you like it?" I started. He passed me a plate with a smile.

"It was perfect," he replied, flicking a few suds at my face. I flicked a few back myself. Within minutes, we were both splashing at each other, grinning and laughing.

Olena came in after a few minutes with a stern look.

We put our heads down, grinning, and both got back to work.

What happened next, I was not prepared for. I froze, as Dimitri promptly caught my hands between his. His expression was emotionless, save for the thoughtful crease between his eyebrows. His brown eyes were gentle. Memories of this morning came back to me, vivid and suddenly so real. I could practically feel his fingers on me. Pulsing, touching me, feeling me, caressing me. I blushed.

* * *

Later that night, as everyone prepared to go to sleep, I heard a soft voice calling from inside. I headed back in, and followed the voice. I knew who it was. My heart could have recognised that voice across an ocean, or in a crowd. It called out to my soul, it seized my breath. Dimitri lay on the bed, curled up on his side. He patted the space next to him, a small smile playing over his lips. He called, and I went.

As soon as I lay down, his hands went to my waist. I closed my eyes as he ran his hands over the curve of my hip, and then up, up, up, his fingertips brushing along my collarbone. I leaned into his touch, into the warmth of his body. He breathed into me in rushed, haggard breaths, his lips moving along mine, whispering Rose. _Rose, Rose, Rose._

We didn't make love that night, even though there was clothing removal. Dimitri couldn't permit my summer dress, no matter how much I protested otherwise. I slept on his warm chest, curled up in content. My mind drifted, drifted back to the beginning, to a moment where I never could have predicted this.

* * *

Wars had been raged before. And as a soldier, he had seen destruction before. But in all his years as an officer, he had never seen this before. He was not prepared for this. Women, men and children scattered across the smoking area, screaming, yelling, crying; some for the lost, some for those who were gone. The wounded cried; the abandoned wept. The sound nearly split his ears. He would never be able to unsee this; never be able to unhear this, it would be burned into his mind, his eyes, forever. Bile rose in his throat as the smell of burning flesh reached his nose. His stomach lurched.

The rubble was cluttered in some areas, and in others, was spread across a mile or two. The bombs had stopped for the moment, in a ceasefire for a total of 72 hours. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to clear away the rubble, clear away the space, find people, mend people, bury the long lost, to heal, to rebuild. When the site was finally cleared of all the living he and his team could find, he went through the rubble, using his gun to shift pieces or move them entirely to unearth bodies. He didn't know how many of the dead he carried that afternoon. His heart was shredded into pieces, destroyed by the destruction, the loss, the pain, the horrible reality of his people. These people were gone, torn from their families, torn from the world. He carried children, some barely ten years of age. He held still, lifeless babies. He cried over them. He touched them. He prayed for them.

Then he heard it.

A small whimpering. A sniffling. He headed toward the noise, slowly, treading carefully through the concrete and metal, and into a small house. Half of the place had been blown away, and two visible bodies lay under the overthrown coach, holding hands, their eyes glassy and frozen. A man and a woman.

The noise was louder here, and got louder as he approached an overthrown table. Behind it, hidden, a small figure sat, her knees pulled up to her chest, her head placed between her knees. She was shaking, whimpering with her grief. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, shielding her face.

The whimpers grew softer and stilled completely when she finally noticed a presence. Her head turned up, and she looked at him. Her face was vulnerable, her brown eyes guarded.

He looked down at her for a few more moments of sweet silence, and then he held out his hand to her.

And she took it.

**Having wrote that scene, I'd like to think of all those people in Gaza, Israel, Palestine, Afghanistan, Iraq and everywhere else in the world where wars are being waged. There are no words for the atrocities you experience each day. My descriptions could or would never suffice. I can never understand your lives or what you're going through, but I am thinking of you. And praying for you. I'm sorry. **

**On a lighter note, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! **


	11. Brown Eyed Handsome Man: Chuck Berry

**I am Indian! For those people that asked. **

**DISCLAIMER: Adapted from Paullina Simon's _The Girl in Times Square._ A beautiful, beautiful novel. So, this is Paullina Simons, with a smidge of me. **

Two bouts of luck, one bad and one good. Bad? I have cancer. Good? I won the lottery. _A weird twist of fate_, I thought bitterly.

I was past the tears, the chemotherapy, and the horrible, horrible nausea and vomiting. The soldiers who had been marching toward my heart, breathing with death and carrying their destructive weapons of poison had temporarily halted. My platelets were up. My appetite was slowly coming back. I was no longer skin and bone, no longer Dachau outbound. Colour was slowly returning to my lips and skin. The hair was coming back, gradually and in short, ugly patches.

Whoever had said that money couldn't buy happiness was lying. The new millionaire Rose bought a new plush leather couch, $200 blankets and heaters, and a huge plasma screen. I bought comedies upon comedies, I bought paints and colouring pencils and canvases. I bought fancy clothes and boots and jewellery from Guess? Gucci, Prada. I went home every day with bags of things and filled my life and all its holes.

And then, there was Dimitri, the NYPD officer investigating Lissa's disappearance. He was with me, almost every night. He had been there from the very beginning, picking me up and driving me to the hospital in the dead of the night when no one else would. Me, with my purple bruised legs and sickly stomach. He had seen me in the worst of conditions, the worst of states- without hair, barely skin and bones, balding, and vomiting on his shoes.

He had seen me in a hospital bed, barely there and disappearing; feverish and unable to remember his phone number. He had seen me with barely any life left in my eyes, in my face. And yet, he always came back. With food, with suggestions, with company, with comfort and silence. I liked him best on my worst days. He didn't say anything, and I appreciated that. That, and he didn't want a cent from me, unlike my family. There were no expectations, no anger. He said yes to everything and anything I wanted. He did everything in that easy going Dimitri way. Go out to eat? _Sure._ Go to the movies? _Let's go._ Come over and hang out on the coach? _On my way._

We had slipped into an easy, comfortable relationship. We sat most of our nights sitting on my plush coach watching comedy after comedy. I had put on Groundhog Day for the 25th time. I had no idea why I loved it so much. I could practically mouth the words.

Some days we went out and ate. Stuffed cabbage, pierogi, jelly, borshct, brownies at Odessa. Greek salad, bread pudding and cheesecake at the little café around the corner. We ordered thick shakes, pizza and Pad Thai. Or we went to the theatre. I spent most of those nights with my eyes behind my hands, especially those nights when Dimitri chose movies like the Shining.

One time, we went to a Bruce Springsteen concert. The music was loud and blaring, shaking my addled veins, the words reverberating in my heart. That hadn't been the only reason I had loved it so much. Dimitri had held me close that whole night, protecting me from the shoving, gyrating crowd. His warm hands had held me close, his breath in my hair, his voice at my ear.

Some nights, he came to watch me paint. This much spare time meant that I had painted a whole roomful of canvases. The subjects were mostly random. Watercolour cats, oil paintings of Time Square and the Flat Iron building, drawings and sketches of patches of trees and parks, paintings of people I imagined or had briefly seen.

"These are actually really good," Dimitri said, one afternoon.

I turned away from my vision of Battery Park. The turpentine was taking forever to dry.

"What?"

His smiling eyes met mine, looking down at my rendering of Times Square. "You should sell them."

I shrugged. "They're alright, I suppose. I can't imagine people ever buying them."

"Well, at least it'll clear up some room in your apartment."

I surveyed the room. Clutter, clutter, clutter. Canvases lay across every available place, some drying, and some too precious to even keep on the floor. Paints and colour pencils were strewn across the room, some lying half open on benches, others shoved in buckets or drawers.

I frowned.

Two afternoons later, Dimitri came over, shaking his head.

"What happened to you?"

I was on the coach with my legs up on the wall, my head slinging off the edge of the coach. He came and sat next to me and the coach sunk slightly under his weight.

"I went to Greenwich Village to find you, but you weren't there anymore. That's not much staying power. It's like fishing. It'll take some time for a bite. It's all in the water."

I sat up and turned to him. "Well the water must have been really good today because I sold everything."

It was true. I sold every last one. Even the ones that were plain and boring, and completely random. An auction like situation even arose when two customers tussled over a painting of a cat.

Dimitri's reaction brought a smile to my lips. His jaw slackened. "All of them? How much did you get?"

"Enough to buy you lunch. Come on."

He raised an eyebrow. I whipped out a wad of cash and smiled, triumphant. "$1000."

And like that, my paintings continued to sell. No matter how much I charged, or how mundane the subject matter was, people bought my paintings. My cancer had awoken something within me. I didn't just see the world. I understood it. I saw beyond its superficial façade and its flaws. I saw truth. I saw beauty. I saw the flawed and the flawless. I saw the pained and the painless. My senses were open to everything.

I couldn't have predicted what happened next. Happiness and blinding colour began to grow and ooze and leak into my life, and into my paintings. My paintings told my whole story. And much more. My hands were empty a couple of months ago. Now they were full. I drew popcorn hands. I drew a woman with flowers, her eyes full of love.

I drew pictures of a couple in love. They stood in an embrace in some photos. In others, they kissed. Sometimes they simply looked at each other. In one, they stood in front of a police car flashing with sirens, kissing feverishly.

I had a particular favourite, one I refused to sell no matter how good anyone thought it was. The couple was at Greenwich Village. The woman sat at a table with a folding chair and a handful of paintings. Her dark brown hair was short and spiky, her brown eyes, large and excited. The man was leaning over the table, his smiling face near hers. His hair was secured demurely at the nape of his neck. He was tall and had brown soft eyes. Their lips almost touched. She looked up at him, her face raised to the heavens, smiling, aching with young love.

**So, Dimitri loved Rose. Despite everything. What a guy.**

**And Groundhog Day is actually one of MY favourite movies. I'm still working out why I love it so much. And of course, Bruce Springsteen...! **

**I can't write this chapter and not bring this up: **

**I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my aunt, a beautiful woman who was taken away from us, too soon. She died of breast cancer years ago, and it broke all our hearts. I love you. We think of you everyday. I could never understand what you went through. All I know was that you were brave. You were strong. It hurt so much, but you fought. I hope you're living somewhere beautiful, where there are no pain and tears. My pen name, Lysa, is for you. **

**Review?**


	12. Prove It All Night: Bruce Springsteen

**DISCLAIMER: Short and sweet. Adapted from Crazy, Stupid, Love. **

"Hey! You!" a voice called loudly.

Huh? I glanced behind me briefly before doing a double take and looking back.

The girl I had hit on a couple of weeks ago in the bar was standing in front me. Dripping wet and wearing an expression I never thought I would see on a girl like her, her face was set and determined. Her dress clung tight and perfectly to her wet skin, her hair dark and long. I swallowed.

And then she was walking right to me, slamming against me and kissing me soundly on the lips. Like an avenging angel come to take her revenge, she grabbed my face and steadied herself, deepening the kiss into something that was heady, and sure, and passionate. Fire burned through my body, rapidly scorching through my veins and into my bloodstream.

_Whoa. _

When the shock finally wore off, my arms went firmly around her waist. I gripped her tight, lifting her off the floor and kissing her back. She broke away quickly and looked me square in the eye, her lips parted. Her brown eyes flickered with a fire that was incredibly, _insanely_ sexy. My lips still tingled from her touch.

"Do you remember me?" she asked, her tone businesslike.

"Yeah," I choked out. My world was hazy and confusing.

"Still find me attractive?"

"Yeah."

"Still wanna take home me home?"

"Yeah."

And with another quick kiss, she found her footing, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the bar.

* * *

It was raining when I moved to the bar to make us drinks. She waited in the living room as I brought us two old fashioned's; my choice of drink. She was looking around, almost nervously when I entered, like she didn't do this for often, or at all. The confidence from the bar was long gone, it seemed. My suspicions were confirmed when she downed not just her drink, but mine as well, within the space of 30 seconds. I stared.

"That's not my favourite." She smacked her lips together. "Thanks."

Puzzled, I put the glasses down.

"So is this how it normally works?" she enquired suddenly.

I slipped off my jacket. "What?"

"You know, you put on a perfect song, you make them a drink." She paused, placing her hands on her waist. Her next words were heavy. "And then you sleep together."

_Pretty much._ "Um, yeah." I sat down.

She clapped her hands together and breathed hard. "I'm very nervous."

I smiled. "I'm getting that."

She was fidgeting a lot, I noticed. The nervousness had translated into her body language. Truthfully...it was kind of cute.

"Okay, because I know I seemed confident back at the bar. But that was um, mostly because I was cold. And wet. And trying to be dramatic. A little bit…" she muttered, her last words coming out a pitch higher than normal.

"You're adorable," I stated simply.

Her expression hardened, her voice deep. "No."

I raised an eyebrow.

She gestured to herself desperately. "I am sexy. I am R rated sexy."

"Mmmhmm." I placed my hand over my mouth to smother my laugh and simply nodded.

"Okay, I know what happens in the PG 13 version of tonight. Alright? I know. It's that….I get really drunk. And then I pass out. And you cover me with a blanket and you kiss me on the cheek and nothing happens." She paused and shook her head. "But that's not why I'm here. I am here to _bang _the hot guy that hit on me at the bar."

I pointed to myself. "Dimitri."

"Dimitri."

I frowned. God, _bang?_ "Are people still saying bang?"

She nodded. "Oh, I do. We are gonna _bang_. Hmmm?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"This is happening." She was still nodding. And then, "Take off your shirt." Her demand was sudden and impatient and completely out of the blue.

"Why?"

She was pacing. "Please, will you take of your shirt? Because I can't stop thinking. And I need you to just…"

"Okay, okay."

"Okay, okay, okay, okay."

The shirt came off. She stared, her eyes widening.

Silence. And then, "….Fuck! Seriously? It's like your photoshopped!"

I looked down. Really? I knew I was kind of cut, but…

"Can I…" she frowned, coming close and placing her hands on my chest.

Whoa! "Ah! You have cold hands." I exclaimed, flinching. She moved back, her eyes still wide.

"Now you need to take off your dress."

She looked at me like I was crazy and shook her head profusely. "No. No way. Not with all that going on. No, thank you. Is there like dim lighting somewhere? Oh god…" she muttered.

Her hand went to her head and she looked back at me, her eyes automatically moving to my chest. "Okay, so then what do we do? What happens now? Like logistically? What's your move?"

My big move? I feigned innocence. "What do you mean what's my move?

"What's your move? Like, what's your big move?"

"I got lots of moves."

"What's your big move?" Her voice grew louder.

"I'm not telling you my big move."

"Tell me your move!"

No way was I telling her. That was embarrassing. And private. A girl like her would probably laugh. And plus, it was something that was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be sudden, and spontaneous, and all wrapped up in subtlety, not stated blandly. It lost all its zest and sounded stupid when it was said aloud. "You're not ready for the big move."

"Yes, I am. I want your big move."

"Trust me, you can't handle my big move."

"Tell me your big move!" she cried.

When I showed her my "big move" however, there was no laughing. Her response was simple. "So do you prefer to do it here or in the bedroom?"

**Review?**

**An Old Fashioned tastes like ass. Whiskey is the devil's juice. **


	13. Come On In My Kitchen: Robert Johnson

**DISCLAIMER: Short and sweet. Adapted from Crazy, Stupid, Love. **

"Hey! You!" a voice called loudly.

Huh? I glanced behind me briefly before doing a double take and looking back.

The girl I had hit on a couple of weeks ago in the bar was standing in front me. Dripping wet and wearing an expression I never thought I would see on a girl like her, her face was set and determined. Her dress clung tight and perfectly to her wet skin, her hair dark and long. I swallowed.

And then she was walking right to me, slamming against me and kissing me soundly on the lips. Like an avenging angel come to take her revenge, she grabbed my face and steadied herself, deepening the kiss into something that was heady, and sure, and passionate. Fire burned through my body, rapidly scorching through my veins and into my bloodstream.

_Whoa. _

When the shock finally wore off, my arms went firmly around her waist. I gripped her tight, lifting her off the floor and kissing her back. She broke away quickly and looked me square in the eye, her lips parted. Her brown eyes flickered with a fire that was incredibly, _insanely_ sexy. My lips still tingled from her touch.

"Do you remember me?" she asked, her tone businesslike.

"Yeah," I choked out. My world was hazy and confusing.

"Still find me attractive?"

"Yeah."

"Still wanna take home me home?"

"Yeah."

And with another quick kiss, she found her footing, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the bar.

* * *

It was raining when I moved to the bar to make us drinks. She waited in the living room as I brought us two old fashioned's; my choice of drink. She was looking around, almost nervously when I entered, like she didn't do this for often, or at all. The confidence from the bar was long gone, it seemed. My suspicions were confirmed when she downed not just her drink, but mine as well, within the space of 30 seconds. I stared.

"That's not my favourite." She smacked her lips together. "Thanks."

Puzzled, I put the glasses down.

"So is this how it normally works?" she enquired suddenly.

I slipped off my jacket. "What?"

"You know, you put on a perfect song, you make them a drink." She paused, placing her hands on her waist. Her next words were heavy. "And then you sleep together."

_Pretty much._ "Um, yeah." I sat down.

She clapped her hands together and breathed hard. "I'm very nervous."

I smiled. "I'm getting that."

She was fidgeting a lot, I noticed. The nervousness had translated into her body language. Truthfully...it was kind of cute.

"Okay, because I know I seemed confident back at the bar. But that was um, mostly because I was cold. And wet. And trying to be dramatic. A little bit…" she muttered, her last words coming out a pitch higher than normal.

"You're adorable," I stated simply.

Her expression hardened, her voice deep. "No."

I raised an eyebrow.

She gestured to herself desperately. "I am sexy. I am R rated sexy."

"Mmmhmm." I placed my hand over my mouth to hide my laugh and simply nodded.

"Okay, I know what happens in the PG 13 version of tonight. Alright? I know. It's that….I get really drunk. And then I pass out. And you cover me with a blanket and you kiss me on the cheek and nothing happens." She paused and shook her head. "But that's not why I'm here. I am here to _bang _the hot guy that hit on me at the bar."

I pointed to myself. "Dimitri."

"Dimitri."

I frowned. God, _bang?_ "Are people still saying bang?"

She nodded. "Oh, I do. We are gonna _bang_. Hmmm?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"This is happening." She was still nodding. And then, "Take off your shirt." Her demand was sudden and impatient and completely out of the blue.

"Why?" I enquired, bewildered.

She was pacing. "Please, will you take of your shirt? Because I can't stop thinking. And I need you to just…"

"Okay, okay."

"Okay, okay, okay, okay."

The shirt came off. She stared, her eyes widening.

Silence. And then, "….Fuck! Seriously? It's like your photoshopped!"

I looked down. Really? I knew I was kind of cut, but…

"Can I…" she frowned, coming close and placing her hands on my chest.

Whoa! "Ah! You have cold hands." I exclaimed, flinching. She moved back, her eyes still wide.

"Now you need to take off your dress."

She looked at me like I was crazy and shook her head profusely. "No. No way. Not with all that going on. No, thank you. Is there like dim lighting somewhere? Oh god…" she muttered.

Her hand went to her head and she looked back at me, her eyes automatically moving to my chest. "Okay, so then what do we do? What happens now? Like logistically? What's your move?"

My big move? I feigned innocence. "What do you mean what's my move?

"What's your move? Like, what's your big move?"

"I got lots of moves."

"What's your big move?" Her voice grew louder.

"I'm not telling you my big move."

"Tell me your move!"

No way was I telling her. That was embarrassing. And private. A girl like her would probably laugh. And plus, it was something that was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be sudden, and spontaneous, and all wrapped up in subtlety, not stated blandly. It lost all its zest and sounded stupid when it was said aloud. "You're not ready for the big move."

"Yes, I am. I want your big move."

"Trust me, you can't handle my big move."

"Tell me your big move!" she cried.

When I showed her my "big move" however, there was no laughing. Her response was simple. "So do you prefer to do it here or in the bedroom?"

**Review?**

**An Old Fashioned tastes like ass. Whiskey is the devil's juice. **


	14. A Fool For You: Ray Charles

**Arranged marriage, anyone?**

I felt his eyes on me as soon as I woke up. It wasn't creepy, I suppose. Just unexpected. He looked away as soon as my eyes clicked open.

I still couldn't believe that I had actually gone through with it. I am married. I had agreed to an arranged marriage. All those years of dreaming of love, of romance, of finding my soul mate had dissolved and flown away, like a kite lost to the wind. I was 26. I wasn't getting any younger. What was I supposed to do?

I would make it work, that's what I would do. I hadn't been forced into it. At the end of the day, I had chosen this. And plus, he wasn't a bad guy. My husband was quiet, resourceful, kind and helpful. I really had nothing to complain about. To sweeten the pot, my parents had also found a guy who I had to grudgingly admit, was pretty darn good looking. I was one lucky woman, as my colleagues continued to remind me.

I sat up and brushed my hair away from my face. Dimitri turned his back to me and sat at the edge of the bed for a few moments before silently getting up.

I quickly got out of bed and slipped on my robe, automatically heading to the kitchen. The apartment was quiet, save for the dull humming of the generator under the floorboards. It had been a week or two, but we still hadn't unpacked fully. Unopened boxes ate up the space in our small living room. Wedding gifts were piled up against the wall. Some framed photographs were hung on the walls, including our wedding photograph. Furniture was either still wrapped in bubble wrap, or still in boxes. The walls were painted an awful faded yellow colour. I grimaced. I really had to repaint those walls. Soon.

Once the coffee was brewing, I set about packing Dimitri's lunch. We had slipped into an easy, comfortable relationship fairly quickly. Neither of us really spoke much in the morning. One day, I had silently gotten up and prepared his lunch, setting him off the day. The routine had been born and continued from that day onward. I got up each morning, made his lunch, watched his car pull out from the balcony, and then got ready for work. Sometimes he did the same thing for me. I didn't mind, and neither did he. We respected each other. It was a cordial relationship. To think of him as my husband was…odd. We were friends.

I was buttering his toast when Dimitri padded into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His scent of mint and musk permeated my air as he brushed past me to the coffee. My stomach clenched. _Huh?_

We said little that morning. He told me when he would be home. I told him I needed some paint, and wondered whether he could pick up a tin of Blueberry Nights on his way home.

"Alright, I'm off." He smiled and left.

He was opening the door when I ran up to him. "Hey! You forgot your lunch."

He accepted it gratefully and turned again to leave before my hand shot out and grabbed his arm. _What are you doing Rose?_

"Wait…I…" I stuttered. _Don't do it…don't!_ Without breathing, and without thinking, I suddenly leaned up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. When I pulled away, I was unable to look him in the eye, so I stammered, "Have a nice day" and ran off.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked back to the kitchen, mentally kicking myself, my cheeks burning.

* * *

"Rose!"

I looked down at the papers and scrunched my face. _Damn it_. "What is it?"

"The water's been shut off. Can you please bring me a bucket of water from outside?"

I sighed. This would have to wait. I put my pen down and rushed out to fetch a pail of water.

"Rose!" I heard Dimitri call again.

"I'm here, I'm here." I put the bucket down and knocked tentatively at the door.

"Come in."

I froze.

"What?"

"I said, come in." I could hear the smile in his voice.

I edged the door open and then I froze again, my jaw dropping a little. My widened eyes surveyed what I saw. I knew Dimitri was built, but I certainly hadn't been expecting this. He was perfect. My breathing rose. Desire coiled in my stomach. I stared.

"Hello?" Dimitri reached out and tried to grab me. His eyes were squeezed shut as soapy shampoo dripped down his head and onto his face.

I cleared my throat. "Yep. Just hold on a second."

I splashed a couple of handfuls of water into his face until he could carefully open his eyes. We both looked at one another. I swallowed. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but I was apparently finding it way too difficult. My eyes had drifted down. The towel he wore around his hips was riding low and gosh….

When I finally looked up, he was smiling.

"I-I'll leave you alone." I slipped a little on my way out, but thankfully managed to close the door firmly behind me.

I smiled.

* * *

"Are you ready? We're going to be late!"

"Almost!" I called back. I tried to reach around to my back again and then grunted angrily. _Damn it._ I couldn't even reach the strings. I needed help.

I looked down at the floor and squeezed my eyes shut. Then, I called, "Dimitri! Come in here. I need help."

He was behind me within minutes. His eyes met mine in the mirror, his expression confused. "What?"

I gestured impatiently to my back. "Please do the strings up. I can't reach them."

His eyes surveyed my back. "How…?"

I smiled. _A guy_. "It's like a corset. The criss-crosses have to come together. You have to pull the strings tight, and then tie them."

Without another word, he pulled at the strings. I jerked. Each jerk brought us closer. My back pressed against his chest. I could feel his warm breath on my bare neck. When he was done, we both stilled. His eyes met mine the mirror again. This look was different. It was one I hadn't seen before. I didn't recognise it. His eyes watched me. They smouldered. Electricity seemed to crackle in our silence. I couldn't look away.

He swallowed, and his fingers drifted down my back, his fingertips lightly brushing my skin. I shivered involuntarily.

Then, leaning around me, his hand found the pin in my hair and pulled. My bun came undone and my hair tumbled down.

"Leave it down."

* * *

A blackout had plunged most of our neighbourhood into darkness. There was no light, save for the faint yellow flickers of candles through curtains.

By the time I made it home, it was evening, and Rose was already home. Sam Cooke was playing. The unmistakeable smell of borscht greeted me as I stepped into the apartment, its pungent scent suffocating the whole room. The place was lit up by 20 or so candles, most of them shining from the kitchen. Rose was at the bench top, swaying a little, humming, cutting up what appeared to be black bread. Unbidden, a smile crept onto my lips.

She was beautiful. And sweet. And kind. I knew that from day one. But over the course of a few weeks, we had gotten close. She took care of me. I took care of her. She asked me to do things for her. I asked her to do things for me. We relied on each other. We filled the holes in each other's lives, making up for our respective shortcomings, filling the silences with questions.

But things had changed a little, since that morning when she had kissed me. I noticed things about her. I watched her sometimes, awed by her beauty and intelligence and strength. I watched her go to work some mornings from the window, her ribboned hair flying in the wind. I draped a blanket over her whenever she fell asleep on the coach, a novel clutched to her chest. I laughed when she danced to her old jazz albums. I couldn't believe that this woman was my wife. Nobody at work could believe it. They teased me constantly, endlessly, telling me what a lucky bastard I was.

Tonight, she was as beautiful as ever. She had styled her hair the way I loved it, down and waving all the way down to her waist. Her eyes were warm and alight as she stirred the steaming, simmering soup.

"Hey. I thought I'd make something familiar today."

"Smells great."

While she finished up the cooking, I set up an eating area in the living room in front of small fireplace. We were still unpacking and buying furniture, so we didn't have a table yet. It didn't really seem like a priority. Getting the place painted was on top of the list, something Rose had taken responsibility for. She said she would start tomorrow.

I laid out a picnic blanket, and cutlery and bowls. Rose walked in a few minutes later, holding the steaming pot of soup. We sat in front of the fire and ate our food, speaking a little.

"This was great." My stomach was warm and full with the food from my childhood, my home. I was smiling.

"Thank you." Her eyes narrowed. "It's your turn tomorrow."

"Done."

Unable to do much until the electricity came back, we sat and played some scrabble, and listened to some music. Simon and Garfunkel crooned into the night, filling our silences and singing to our laughter.

"I win," Rose declared, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Sitting in front of the fireplace, she was beautiful. Her skin was buttery and warm. Her eyes were alight and bright. Her sweet perfume filled the space between us, a mixture of currents and violets.

"I accept defeat." I leaned back and crossed my feet. She really was much better than me at this game. I crushed her at scrabble and poker. She killed me at dominoes.

She leaned back too and laughed. Watching her face light up with happiness, my stomach boiled.

She fell asleep soon after that. I draped a blanket over her and laid down next to her, careful to keep my distance. She slept with the innocence of a child. It was one of the many beautiful things I had noticed about her. She had so many of those.

* * *

I woke to the calling of my name.

"It's already ten, Dimitri. I know it's the weekend, but I think it's time to get up." I implored myself to open my eyes, only to find her face inches from mine. She hovered over me, smiling, her hair framing her face, like an angel in the light.

"I have work to do. I'm going to start painting. And I need you to lay down some sheets."

I sat up. After a quick shower and shave, I gulped something down and then set about putting some sheets on the furniture.

"Make sure you cover the coffee table too." When Rose waltzed into the room, she was lit up in brilliant colour. She was wearing a ratty pair of overalls and her hands were at her hair, securing it up in ribbons of citrus yellow and purple grape.

Repressing a smile, I nodded. "I'll go grab a ladder."

Rose did most of the work. I mostly just lounged around watching, eating, and offering up pieces of mostly unwarranted advice. I watched her work in that quiet, insightful way of hers. She painted with passion, with sweet delight. She loved her job, but it was clear she loved this more. She was fully immersed, painting with young abandon, running a paintbrush across a half painted, wild world I couldn't quite see yet.

When afternoon rolled around, she finally put her brush down and turned to me, tucking a waif piece of hair behind her ears. Her face, her neck and her arms were dotted in splashes of red and pink and blue. But she looked happy.

"What do you think?"

She gestured to the wall behind her and smiled hopefully, her eyebrows raised.

"It's beautiful," I answered truthfully. The feature wall she had painted was her depiction of Paris. The Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud, black and thin against a brilliant background of sunset orange, red and purple. It looked almost like a watercolour painting of Paris on a sunset evening.

"You think? I don't know. Could have been better. I was thinking of doing the St Basil's or something on another wall. Hopefully that one will be better."

"What are you talking about? This is great."

She glanced briefly at it and then turned away, shrugging. Her foot was on the third step of the ladder when I rushed forward, already foreseeing what was going to happen. It had been automatic. I saw her foot twist when it reached the step and I instinctively moved forward. I caught her around the waist and pulled her to my chest.

I looked down at her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her hand was on my shirt, scrunching the fabric tight in her fist. One brown eye clicked open. Then the other. We both froze, the words on my dry lips evaporating. The space between us was intimate, and we had both noticed it. Our breathing grew heavy, and warmth filled the space between us. She swallowed. Looking down at her in my arms, vulnerable, paint speckled and beautiful, and closer than we had ever been before, I couldn't stop myself. I leaned down and I kissed her.

Her lips were sweet and perfect, and best of all, responsive. She kissed me back. She lifted her hand up into my hair, and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss, responding with unabashed fervour.

When we finally broke away, we smiled at each other.

**Review?**

**Rose's taste in music here is all me. Huge Jazz fan!**


	15. A Rose Is Still A Rose: Aretha Franklin

**THANK YOU to those people who wrote those sweet reviews! You guys are the reason why I keep writing. **

**DISCLAIMER: Last lines or so are from Groundhog Day. My love of the movie has resurfaced. **

Bloody hell. If I was late again, he would kill me. Last time I was late, he closed the door on me and left me outside, standing, for an hour. I hated him. I tried not to say those words, ever in my life. It was something you couldn't take back.

But at this point in time? With everything he had put me through? I didn't even care anymore. I hated him for the power he held over me. If I quit, my career went straight down the drain. Nobody would hire me.

I flew through the door, flapping my hands in a gesture I hoped was reassuring. "I'm sorry. I know, I know I'm late."

His eyes lifted from the paper he was reading. His expression didn't change. I turned my back to him and arranged refreshments on a table.

"You're late. Again. One more time, and you are fired. You hear me?"

I suppressed an eye roll. "Yes, sir."

I heard his chair scrape back. "I need you at the studio by 10. When you get there, you need to have a hot coffee for me, waiting. I need a date for tonight. I also need you to make dinner reservations for Tuesday with that girl from accounting. If my lunch isn't hot and waiting for me by the time I'm back here, I assure you: This will be your last day in this building."

Anger bubbled in my chest. My vision became red. I gritted my teeth and breathed hard.

"…Did you get all of that? Are you even listening to me?"

I whipped around quickly, at a speed I didn't even know I possessed. The whole month's events flashed in front of me, blurring together into one awful picture. I remembered my crying sessions in the office toilets. I remembered crying myself to sleep every night. I remembered collapsing on the subway one day from dehydration, because I had forgotten to take a sip of water in two days. I remembered falling asleep, standing, at an intersection because I was so sleep deprived after running his errands nonstop for two days.

My next words to him were venomous. They were dark and completely unrecognisable. God, please forgive me. _Don't do it, Rose. Don't-_

"No. No. I will not do any of those things that you just asked me to do. Because you are mean. You are a horrible, horrible person. You talk to me like I'm dirt. You treat me like dirt. You spit on my face, you bastard."

I shook my finger at him, my eyes bulging. "And look at you! Look at your pathetic, pathetic self! You can't even get a date without having to resort to begging. You're a miserable, horrible, mean bastard. _Who_ in their right mind would ever want you?" I panted. I watched his face, shocked, frozen and utterly flabbergasted. And then, I broke into hysterical laughter.

"What? Shocked that you turned me into this insane person? That's what you do to people! You treat them animals, and they become animals."

He stepped forward. "Roza, I-"

_Roza? _"No! I don't want to hear it. I quit. I don't care what you do to me. I don't care what you do to my career. This is too much. I'm done." And with that, I threw down my glasses, my PDA, and stormed out of the room. Everyone stared at me as I made my way toward the elevator. I was sure that they had heard my shouting two floors down.

I tripped over my heels when I nearly reached the elevator, but I was sure he didn't see. The bastard hadn't followed me, thank god. He had enough sense to do that. At this point in time, I would have strangled him if he had attempted to do that. My chest was heaving. The anger was mostly gone, but pieces of it still lingered.

The elevator doors slid open, and I pushed my way in, rather rudely. I furiously blew my bangs out of my hair.

As the doors closed however, I was sure I saw a glimpse of him, staring at me through the crowd of watching people.

* * *

I laughed and called the bartender for another. "Come on. Just one more. One more." Drinking had made the whole situation seem almost comical. I couldn't believe what I had done. A part of me didn't want to believe it. Once the reality seeped in, I would be in tears. And here I was, pissing away my savings on cheap drinks in a bar. The alcohol created this fantasy in my head, and made my head lighter; my thoughts were happier. Ignorance certainly was bliss.

The bartender shot me a strange look and didn't answer.

"Hey, this isn't my fault. It's that bastard-"

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. It's that bastard, Dimitri's."

I laughed and shook my head profusely. My words were slurring. My thoughts were blurring."No, no. You don't understand. He's a _dick._ He's a frigging dick. He's the devil, here on Earth in human form. He's-"

My words were cut off when a warm hand closed around my wrist. I instinctively attempted to pull my hand away until I looked up, my eyes meeting the dark familiar ones of a man I had worked for the last few months. I froze. And then I jerked my hand away.

"Get away." I turned in my seat and pointed at him. "This is the dick. Dimitri."

I gestured to the crowd. "Everyone, Dimitri. Dimitri, everyone."

The customers all crowed a loud boo.

Dimitri, his face surprisingly calm, held his hands up to the crowd. "Guilty as charged."

I snorted and barked at the bartender, "Another."

Dimitri, that smug bastard, leaned toward the barman and muttered, "Thanks for the call. I got it from here."

"What? You called him?" I gestured wildly between the two. They were allies_. In cahoots. _I snickered. _Hoots. _

They both looked at me strangely. "You were the person she called the most." The bartender reached below the bar and handed Dimitri a phone that looked suspiciously like the one I owned. I patted my hands over my outfit and scratched at my pockets. _It was my phone._

My head shot up and my hands closed around Dimitri's hands. "Give that to me."

His grip was like steel. He tucked the phone into his back pocket, and then, before I had a chance to retrieve it, his hands were around my waist. I was thrown over his shoulder and heralded out of the bar. My world flipped and my hair clouded my vision. Within seconds, I was thrashing desperately against him and beating at his legs with fists. I screamed and yelled, to no avail apparently. I was sure that his expression was warding off anybody's attempt to rescue me. He could do that. I had seen his looks kill.

The customers cheered as that bastard walked out of the bar.

When I realised there was no use, and my head was starting to hurt and spin, I stopped screaming. I swam into beautiful unconsciousness.

* * *

I was vaguely aware of things, as I passed in and out of consciousness. But still, I was surprised when I woke to bright sunlight. I squinted. And then I froze.

My head throbbed. It felt like a hundred hammers were beating away at my skull. My mouth was dry, and my hair was in my face. But that wasn't the reason why I froze. No. It was because I was lying on a bed, barely clothed, in loft that I would have recognised anywhere. I looked down at the shirt I was wearing. I recognised it. I smelled it. I recognised that too. I wanted to faint. I wanted to faint, and disappear into the sheets.

And then I screamed.

Dimitri came tearing through the door and into the bedroom, looking wild and concerned. I screamed louder. The only thing he wore were pyjama bottoms. My hazy mind put the pieces together. My screams died. My eyes swam with tears. I was crying.

Dimitri was at my side immediately, wiping my tears away and stroking my hair away from my face. I thrashed against him and beat him on the chest.

Clearly fed up with everything, he roughly grabbed my face, his expression hard. "Rose. Rose. Listen. Listen to me."

My wails died. Tears silently slid down my face.

_How could I give my virginity up like that?_ It was gone. I couldn't even remember it. My first time, my first time-

His expression shifted. I realised I had been speaking aloud. I froze.

Dimitri stared. And then, "You do know that we didn't sleep together. Right?"

I stared. And then I grabbed a pillow and started hitting him with blind, blind rage. "How could you do that to me? What did you think I was going to think, dressed like this?" I gestured wildly to my barely there outfit.

He laughed. I stared. This had to be the first time I had ever seen him laugh. I had seen him sort of smile before. Maybe chuckle a little. But a laugh? God. It was like seeing Severus Snape laugh. My jaw dropped. It was a wonderful sound. It was warm, and sweet, and honeyed, like a sweet caress. It was absolutely nothing like the evil cackle that had haunted my day dreams. It lit his face up, it made his eyes bright.

He cupped my cheek and leaned forward, smiling. I grimaced, and awkwardly shrank away. His touch was warm, and made my blood burn. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Just for that?" I quipped. My face hardened. A cheap shot, but god did he deserve it. And he knew it.

He sighed and shook his head. I watched him. He almost looked guilty. I was still angry…but damn it. "For everything. I've been a jerk to you from day one. It was inexcusable. It was horrible. I just…I couldn't look at you."

His expression grew darker. It grew pained. It grew sad. Against my better judgement, I leaned forward. His next words made my heart twist.

"It's just…you remind me of my wife. She is…she was a beautiful, beautiful woman."

His hands into his bedside table and retrieved a silver frame. He held it out to me. The woman in the photograph was beautiful. I nearly gasped. She also looked eerily like me. She had long dark hair and bangs that brushed her crystalline blue eyes. She was smiling, her arms around a man in the picture. _Dimitri_, I realised. He looked so different. He looked…happy. He was smiling. His eyes were alight with excitement, happiness…with love.

I silently met his eyes. A thousand messages flew between us during that moment. Pain, regret, sadness. Understanding shone in my mind. The dirty looks. The barking of orders. His inability to look me in the face. Oh, god.

I didn't know what to say, except, "I'm sorry. I-"

He shook his head and waved his hand at me. "No, no. God. You don't have _anything_ to apologise for. You didn't know."

He grimaced and his expression turned pained."What I did was horrible. So horrible. I don't know if you could ever-"

Before I knew it, my hand was reaching out. It held his. His eyes met mine.

"It's fine. Honestly. It's all in the past."

* * *

I cooked that morning for someone other than myself, for the first time in months. It felt good.

I laid out an assortment of foods for Rose on the table. I wasn't sure what she liked. I knew she would eat anything, but I still wanted to do it all. Maybe this was overcompensating, but no matter what she had said, I still felt horrible for what I had done. I had pushed her to the edge. I had said and done horrible things to her. I had tortured her. It had taken her having a full blow breakdown for me to realise that, and to feel bad about it. My eyes met Tasha's eyes, my Tasha's eyes. She stared at me from her silver frame, a sweet smile on her lips. _I'm sorry._

"Okay, you have the best shower," Rose's voice announced.

I turned away quickly and wiped away the tear at the corner of my eye. Then I spun and smiled brightly at her.

She had taken a shower, and her hair was down. It curled at the ends, and fell in waves down to her waist. Her face was bright and fresh, her eyes twinkling. She still wore my shirt. My heart ached with remembrance, with familiarity. Tasha flashed in front of my eyes, striding toward me after a shower, her hair curling, her skin smelling of lavender.

Rose laughed, breaking me sharply away from my thoughts. I vaguely registered her perfume, a sweet scent of currents and roses. "What the hell is this?"

I set a bowl of strawberries down and smiled. "Breakfast."

I had laid out plates of eggs and bacon, bowls of porridge and oatmeal, stacks upon stacks of waffles and pancakes and tureens of juicy strawberries and butter and crystallized honey.

"Are you feeding a little Dimitri army?"

I grinned. "I've seen you eat before." I pulled out a chair for her.

"Hey!" she protested. Needing no invitation, she dug in and ate ravenously; happily. She ate like she had never seen food before. She ate like the food was about to disappear at any moment, and she had to eat quickly, before she missed it all. I watched her in awe. She ate like she had been starving for months. How could a small girl like her eat so much? How did she contain it all?

I smiled and pushed the strawberries toward her. She grabbed a handful and ate two at a time.

"You're not eating?" she mumbled around a mouthful of waffles. Her cheeks bulged.

I smiled. I was doing an awful lot of that this morning. It felt good. My face was starting to become sore from all of the sudden smiling. "I already ate."

She coughed and shook her head. "Yeah, which means a celery stick or a handful of carrots. That's rabbit food!"

"We can't all eat for an army and stay a size six, Roza."

She rolled her eyes. And then she frowned. "What's with this Roza thing?"

The outrage in her voice was amusing. I chuckled. "It's your name, in Russian."

When she was finally done eating, I told her it was time to get going. She insisted on stacking the dishes and washing them herself, considering I had made breakfast.

"Hey, you forgot this one."

She flipped the bird and then smiled at me. "Chuck it."

I stood up and strode over. "Very funny."

Her hands reached out to grab the bowl and overlapped with mine. They cupped my fingers. We both stiffened.

Because in that one touch, electricity shot up through my arm, reverberating in my soul, stirring my blood. Our eyes met at the same time. My heart began to beat faster as her eyes bore into mine. Her scent was suddenly intoxicating, wrapping around me and trapping me fast. She swallowed, her eyes moving down to my lips. Her lips parted.

And then, achingly slow, she leaned up on her toes, and kissed me. Her lips were soft, and unyielding, and sweet. She tasted like strawberries and honey. It barely lasted a few seconds before she broke away.

Her face immediately turned apologetic before I shook my head at her. No. I couldn't blame her. She didn't have anything to be sorry for.

Because I had wanted it too.

And there it was, the honest truth. I hadn't told Rose everything. I hadn't told her the whole truth when I had apologised to her. I hadn't told her that I liked her from the moment I met her and that's why I hated her so much.

Because for the first time after Tasha, I felt something for someone. My attraction had stirred within me. It grew slowly, it crept up on me, catching me unaware. It had stunned me. It was true, I saw some of Tasha in her. But there were other things too. She was funny, beautiful, kind and sweet. She was wonderfully generous; she was kind to strangers, and children; and when she stood in the snow, she looked like an angel. I didn't tell her any of that. No, instead, I told her this:

"I liked it."

And she smiled.

**Review?**


	16. Candle In The Wind 1997: Elton John

**New chapter, long time, I know. But if you guys wanted a new chapter soon, you could have messaged! Anyway. **

**This piece is adapted from a Hindi film called _Hum Tum. _It's about two people who meet over the course of half a lifetime. **

**It's one of my favourite films, for some strange, odd reason. **

**Anyway, the style of writing is different to what I've ever done before. It's written like Rose is recounting, very briefly, all of their meetings. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**P.S. I will also be editing previous chapters for minor mistakes, of which there are many. I upload the first draft of pieces, so there is always mistakes. I apologise for my impatience in advance!**

_Montana, 20 years ago. _

We first met 20 years ago, on a flight en route to New York, with a stopover at Amsterdam. He sat next to me. The first thing he did was tell me I had something on my face, which I didn't really mind. I was glad someone told me before I walked around everywhere with it. Regardless, I didn't really think much of him at this point.

It turns out that his first interaction was the most decent one of all our interactions. It went downhill from that moment on. He was an annoying, sulky, man-whorish being, who threw rubbish over his shoulder and scribbled nonsense cartoons on napkins. When he finally broke the silence, he wondered how odd it was that we had sat next to each other for so long and had not introduced ourselves.

When we shook hands, the plane trembled.

He told me his name was Dimitri.

* * *

We spoke again on the travelators at Amsterdam. He wanted to go sightseeing, because he knew I had a Visa. _How do you know that?_ I asked. He had rifled through my bag. When I exasperatedly told him he shouldn't rifle through a woman's bag, he gave a shrug and muttered some nonsense.

For some strange reason beyond me, I agreed anyway and went with him.

So we spent the day exploring Amsterdam. The things I learnt about him over the day did nothing to improve my feelings about him. He liked to deceive and ogle girls. He liked to sleep around and date. He smoked. We went to the museum (grudgingly on his part), the aquarium. We rode a boat. We ate.

As the day came to a close, we began to quarrel. He started it. He teased me, so I teased him back. When I wouldn't back down, he had had enough.

He grabbed me in the middle of a crowd of watching strangers and kissed me.

And what did I do?

I slapped him.

* * *

The flight to New York was spent apart, with me angrily muttering to myself a few rows in front of him. When the flight finally landed, I was pushing my trolley out the airport doors as fast as I could. And then he was there, apologising, smiling, telling me to forgive.

No, I told him. He has no respect for me or any woman out there. He thought that since I spent a day with him Amsterdam, I would be easy bait?

He had spoken about 'our' story back in Amsterdam, telling me that everyone has a story. There was no story, I told him. Just the end, and this was the end.

And then, without another spitting word to him, I was pushing that trolley out of there.

_New York, 18 years ago. _

The next time I saw him was too soon. I wasn't surprised when I realised he hadn't changed. How could he have? I was running in Central Park when a flash of familiar brown caught my eye. And sure enough, there he was, kissing a girl against a tree.

Before I could slink away, he saw me. He cornered me at one of the food stalls, buying a coke. When he casually touched me on the shoulder, a woman fell off her bike. Something like that is always bound to happen whenever we meet, I told him viscously.

When he realised I still hadn't forgiven him, he nearly walked away. That is, until I recognised the girl he had been kissing. She was an old school friend I had lost touch with, and apparently the most gullible girl around. And…she didn't know that they had been together when we kissed. She had been easily fished in by this whore's tricks.

I told her as much. I pulled her away in the middle of Dimitri's protests and told her everything, from our meeting on the plane to his kiss in Amsterdam.

Suffice to say, that day did not end well for 'Dimi'. He lost his girl and had a coke thrown at head.

_Montana, 12 years ago. _

Our next meeting was one of weird coincidence. I was moving into a villa my wedding planner had organised for me, when a familiar voice in the den drew me near. And there he was, bragging loudly about his napkin cartoons and how he had made it into the Times.

By some odd occurrence, _his _mother was my wedding planner. And I apparently looked like a girl now, with my long hair and fashionable clothing. He looked horrendous. His smile was buried behind a scruffy beard begging desperately for a blade. I told him as much. It was his Michael Fassbender look, he told me. I suppressed an eye roll. When he punched me lightly on my arm, the tent being assembled behind us fell apart. Bound to happen, he pointed out. Our meetings did always seem to initiate accidents.

Our interactions were brief until the wedding. But much like New York, I wasn't surprised to find that he hadn't changed. I learned as much when he helped me a hitch a ride to my fitting. We sat amongst the truck's vegetables and fruits as he piled me with his questions. An arranged marriage? Both, I told him. I liked Adrian. He liked me. He asked me. I said yes. Had we moved in together? Before the wedding? Of course not.

He laughed, like the man whore he still was. Dimitri's questions evaporated instantly once we reached our destination. He was too busy hitting on the seamstress.

When my wedding day finally rolled around, Dimitri was there. My feelings for him hadn't changed…but they had softened considerably. I no longer resisted the urge to slap him. He even presented me with a beautiful photograph of Adrian kissing me on the cheek on the day.

When we parted at the airport, amongst the tears and hugs of family, it was on better terms. I waved, and he disappeared.

_Paris, 10 years ago. _

I hadn't expected to see Dimitri ever again. I had left America and moved to Paris. But fate played its game once again. Reading a book on the train home one afternoon, I heard someone sit opposite me. And there he was, with a smile and small wave.

The lady who had made me coffee seconds ago tripped and threw her coffee tray on the floor, spilling milk and sugar everywhere. Dimitri smiled, and said something like that had to happen. I frowned. Come on, you seriously don't remember?

He told me about his cartoons, and how it had gotten big, much bigger than he had ever expected. They were even talking merchandise. I nodded politely, I listened, I watched him. He had changed a little. He still had that irreverent immaturity to him, still cracking those same jokes. Despite everything, Dimitri still managed to be his carefree self, whenever and wherever. It was a quality I found almost endearing. I had been too harsh with him all those years ago.

When I stood up to leave, it was too soon for him. It's my station, I told him. As we walked to the doors, he only had kind words for me. Say hi to Adrian for me.

And then I told him.

I told him Adrian was no longer a part of my life. The doors closed, and I walked away.

* * *

The next time I saw Dimitri, it was clear from his face that he knew. He was leaving the apartment I shared with my mother, wearing an expression I had seen too often not to recognise. Mother had told him. We walked through the snow covered streets, hands in our pockets, not saying much.

I couldn't even get a word out. How could I tell him about Adrian? How could I tell him that I lost him just as we were becoming truly happy? How life had taken him away, in that one split second, and torn my life apart. How could I tell him that I couldn't face him, or any of my family, lest they press some other guy to marry on me? How could I tell him I had been a coward and moved to Paris, a city where no one knew me, to lose myself in crowds and live in dead silence?

The girl he had known was gone. She had died the day Adrian had. And she needed no pity.

Dimitri did all the talking. He tried to say something, to say anything. And I truly appreciated it. I told him as much. When he left, he took my umbrella with him, and I looked back and smiled after him. It was true. I had changed…but he certainly hadn't. Of course he hadn't.

We hung out a few more times after that. When I made it clear that I wouldn't stand pity, he told me there was none. Instead, he offered to split our lunch bill with me. Fifty-fifty. Hadn't that been what we had agreed on all those years ago?

When we finally parted at the airport, the memories of our last parting were fresh. But this time he was the one leaving.

I told him I couldn't believe that I would miss him. It was true. My heart had healed a little. And that was because of him. I was sad to see him go.

And what did he say?

Life's a long while. We'll meet again.

_Montana, 8 years ago. _

He was right. When I finally plucked up enough courage to head home, to face my family, my relatives and their sad faces, Dimitri was there, knocking on my door in the middle of the night, pouting. He was hungry.

I happily made him sandwiches, I told him how happy I was to be back. In the middle of our conversation, he steered it in a different, unexpected, unwelcome direction. Marriage.

When I finally humoured him, our conversation ended with my face cupped between his hands. I had never realised how warm they were.

We met again one afternoon for lunch. And he abandoned me to his friend, Ivan. Curiously, the same friend he had arranged to meet mother and I at the airport. That 'lunch' ended abruptly. Dimitri left, citing a date, and the friend and I were lost in awkward silence. I made a pitiful excuse, and he drove me home.

It's my birthday today, he said randomly, half way through the drive. How come Dimitri hadn't brought it up…? Dimitri was such a...!

When Dimitri was finally reminded, we cut a cake and popped open some champagne at a club. Why didn't he mention it? Dimitri grabbed the knife off his friend and cut into the cake. It seemed he was used to Dimitri's ways. Dimitri was kind hearted, but completely forgetful and completely prone to his douche bag moments.

He proved as much when his 'date' from earlier turned up, shaking her head at him. Dimitri had forgotten to pick her up for the 'party'. Diana, she said, shaking both our hands.

Ivan and Diana hit it off almost immediately. They knew each other, it turned out. They had never met face to face, but had spoken before. They also liked the song that began playing, a song Dimitri and I had immediately mutually condemned.

They danced, and it was sealed. With some people, it takes more than one meeting. With others, that one meeting is enough, I told Dimitri. He stared.

They were engaged within a month.

* * *

I couldn't quite figure it out. Dimitri sulked at the engagement. He seemed almost disappointed. I couldn't quite place it…but something told me it wasn't because he lost out on her.

And then, everything made sense. Diana drank too much, and began saying too much. Her words sliced my heart apart, and I hadn't been prepared for it. Dimitri had been setting up Ivan and me. When things didn't stir between us, Diana had turned up, and things had thankfully worked out. He was upset because his dirty little plan didn't work out.

I stared, my vision blurring with tears. I had it out with Dimitri in the bathroom. I screamed. I shouted. He shouted back. He shattered the mirror. How could he do this to me? When he knew that I had moved to Paris to escape this? What was wrong with being alone?

He didn't understand. Of course he didn't. I walked away.

And there, standing outside the bathroom was Ivan. He told me that Dimitri loved me, and that was why everything hurt so much. He doesn't even realise it, he told me. Dimitri forgets his best friend's birthday, every day for 15 years, but remembers every word I've ever uttered. If that wasn't love, he didn't know what was.

I didn't reply.

Because he was right.

I love Dimitri.

* * *

I found Dimitri later that night, having it out with some waiters behind the restaurant. He had drank so much that his words had begun to slur. I walked up with my umbrella, and tapped him on the shoulder. It was late. It was raining.

He finally agreed to come with me but couldn't stop muttering that he was a bad person. I grabbed his arm and attempted to soothe his stumbling steps.

When he had finally shook off most of the drink, it was late. I had lost the umbrella to the rain and the wind. I had also given up on restraining Dimitri.

So we ran across the beach crazily, happily in our wet dress clothes. And then we were tumbling, down, down, down. His face hovered inches away from my own. I could see every raindrop on his sand speckled face, every line on his lips. My world became noiseless, reduced to the erratic thumps of my heart against my chest.

We made love that night, on a moonlit night in a cabin on the beach. He peeled away all my grief, all my guilt, and filled my empty heart with his love.

When I woke the next day, he was gone. I ran my fingertips over the space he left and smiled. The memories were too fresh. There was too much love.

We met later that day at the wedding of Diana and Ivan.

The fool didn't even match his tie to his suit. I wondered happily how things would be from now onward. What came next? I didn't even care. As long as Dimitri was there.

We finally spoke after the wedding grew to a close. Diana threw her bouquet, and they were off. When we faced each other, it was clear we both had things to say.

You go first, I told him with a smile. Little did I know that he was about to seize my heart right out of my chest and throw it on the floor in front of me.

He couldn't even look at me. We should get married, he said.

Why? To correct the mistake we had made last night? Was what happened a mistake to him?

Well then, we shouldn't make any more mistakes, I told him. I swallowed the tears back, and walked away, my heart in my throat.

_Louisiana, 1 year ago. _

I never saw Dimitri again. I had heard that he had tried to chase me, but had never found me. I had moved straight after the incident at the church. I couldn't bear the heartache, not twice in a lifetime. I ran away like the coward I was, and buried my heart deep in the middle of a city half way across the globe from him.

But there was no avoiding him. His cartoons became bigger and bigger, till they were finally fashioned into a novel. A novel, it turned out, that sold millions and became a best seller within weeks. He stared at me from shelves at bookstores, from television screens in shopping centres.

It was a story about love. It was a story about a boy and a girl, and how they couldn't live without one another. He was arrogant, immature and silly. She was standoffish and condescending. But against all circumstances, they were perfect for each other.

He finally ended up in my city for his book tour.

And he finally told the world about us.

The book was about us. And how he should have never left. I grabbed the novel, and ran to the press conference.

But I was too late.

No, it turned out.

Not quite yet.

I found him walking languidly down a cobblestoned path from the press meeting, muttering something about how it never rains in August.

It never rains in August, I told him.

He turned.

But whenever we meet, something always happens, he finished.

He asked me whether I read it. I lied, and motioned 'no'. I told him about how I once had this great friend, but he left me. He left me, and he didn't even try to stop me.

He told me that my friend is horrible.

No, I told him, barely restraining my tears. Don't say a word against my friend.

And I couldn't hold it in any longer. All those years of being angry, for meeting each other and then slipping away was forgotten. We were here now. I was with Dimitri.

He murmured over and over, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. He stroked my hair. I cried and he held me. And we kissed. We kissed till the breath left our bodies, we kissed till the rain grew still. And then we walked away, arm in arm.

The rain petered out, and the sun crept out from behind the dark clouds.

Is this the end of our story? I asked.

No, he smiled. This is the beginning.

_Montana, today. _

And it really was. We were married within a week. And nine months later, we stood in front of the nursery at the hospital, looking down at a group of 15 babies, one of which was ours.

Our baby girl yawned and bared her pink toothless gums. And then she was crying. A little boy was placed in the bassinet next to hers, puckering up his lips at all who watched. Cheeky bastard, I smiled.

_Who is this guy?_ Dimitri asked. And then: _If he's like this, I wonder what his mother is like._

I turned. _What? Excuse me? When did you see his mother?_

_I-er-she-no-see-I-didn't-I was just joking._

_When did you see his mother? No, no, I want to know. Huh?_

Dimitri shrugged, and muttered, and equivocated his way out. _Look, your baby is cute_, he pointed.

_I want to know when you saw his mother,_ I repeated.

_Okay, so I saw his father, and he doesn't look like him, so I figured that he looks like the mother…_.The grin turned sheepish.

I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. Same sleazy, offbeat, crazy Dimitri, even after all these years. I moved my hands toward his neck, shaking him, laughing, completely and totally in love with him.

So Dimitri was right all those years ago in Amsterdam. We did have a story. And this was it.

**Review? Please?**


	17. Private Investigations: Dire Straits

**AN: This next piece contains Silver Shadows spoilers! This is fair warning. **

**Basically, Dimitri, Adrian, Sydney and Rose are attempting to get to a man who could have helpful information they need. Or who is connected to the kidnapping of the person they are searching for. **

**There is some language in this piece, but it is fairly mild. **

**Enjoy!**

"Look, you guys just have to go in and have a look around. Find him. Try and keep under the radar."

The instructions were simple. Dimitri and Adrian had to infiltrate the scene, act like simple customers out for a good night, and locate our target. If trouble cropped up for Sydney and I, they were there to back us up. Adrian could also help disguise us if the need came. That was Dimitri's reasoning anyway.

Dimitri insisted their involvement was because he didn't want to let us go in on our own, but I knew it was more that he couldn't stand being the one of action. When I told him as much, he simply chuckled. I took that as a yes.

Sydney and I had the hard part. We were to infiltrate the back end of the club. Sydney wasn't as comfortable assuming her undercover role, but on the other hand, was willing to do anything for Jill. We were sure this guy was going to make an appearance tonight. We just needed to get to him.

We were infiltrating a strip club. Soon enough, it became clear that this was the easy problem. Our dress requirements turned out to be the only real worry.

Dimitri straightened from his leaning position when I finally emerged from the change room. The dress was worse than anything my mind had imagined or conjured. I had been rendered speechless.

Adrian and Dimitri had simply handed them to us, without any warning of sorts. The dress clung everywhere and definitely not in the same way my black dress had done its job. It came down to half way down my thighs. It was a brilliant red and glittered from top to bottom with gaudy beads. Super slutty. I was down with regular slutty, but this...

"Seriously?" I gestured to myself exasperatedly.

"You'll blend in!"

"I look like a whore!"

"Correction: _We,_" came Sydney's sad voice. She still refused to come out.

"I think that's kind of the point," Adrian commented.

"Well then you wear it!"

Adrian smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "No can do, little dhampir. I rock lots of looks, but I think this would raise more eyebrows than anything else."

I didn't understand why Dimitri wasn't a little more outraged. He was going to let me out like this? With all those prying, hungry man-whore eyes?

"You're actually okay with us wearing this?" I turned to Adrian. "You're okay with your wife wearing this?"

"Oh, believe me, we hate it," Dimitri said gravely, grimacing.

I narrowed my eyes. "You love it."

Adrian shook his head sheepishly. "Okay, yeah, I can't lie. We love it."

I suppressed an eye roll.

Adrian sighed and scratched at Sydney's curtain. "Come on, Sage. Let's have a look see."

"I feel naked."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Adrian!"

After a little more coaxing along with a helpful reminder that we were losing time, Sydney finally emerged. Her face was screwed up in disdain, and her arms were held tightly around herself in a vain attempt to cover up everything.

Her outfit was bright blue, and covered almost completely in sequins and glitter. The top half had several geometric cut-outs that revealed large squares and triangles of pale white skin. There was basically no back to the dress, and the front did little to cover her abundance. Like my dress, it came down to about half way down the thigh.

Adrian's eyes bulged.

Sydney blew her hair out of her face and turned to survey herself in the mirror. Her self-conscious, fumbling fingers attempted to desperately pull down the scraps of thin material over her thighs.

Adrian moved behind her and closed his hands around her waist. She instantly relaxed under his touch. I smiled. He kissed her hair. "You look beautiful, Sage."

Her anxiety only lasted a few moments more. Her face transformed within seconds into something hard, somebody ready to head into battle. She set her jaw. "Let's go."

* * *

"The hair is fine right?" I asked. I was fidgeting.

Sydney smiled and slipped her hand into mine. "It's fine. I never pegged you for the nervous type."

I chuckled. "I'm not. But the crazy biker guys with guns in there definitely make me nervous. Especially with you in there."

"I can defend myself!" Sydney's enraged reply came.

I nearly forgot about that. Our little secret weapon. Human magic was something we were still trying to accept, and learn more about. But with Jill gone, that took the back burner. Any help, even if it came from an unexpected source was welcome.

When Dimitri pulled into the parking lot, it was evening. He simply popped the locks open and turned to us with a grim smile.

"Good luck."

I turned to look at them, both our men, working together, and smiled. "Don't need it."

* * *

The confidence I had in the parking lot didn't last as long as I would have liked. We were ushered in through the back as soon as we knocked at the door. No questions, no shouts, no call for identification, nothing. Well, that was easy.

Sydney eyes carefully, but casually, surveyed the dressing room. Much like a guardian actually. She had her neutral, Alchemist face on. Bright lights lined the mirrors pushed up against the walls. Wooden chairs were placed in front of the dressing tables, decked with cheap glitter, makeup and hair spray cans. Once again, without any questions, we were quickly shoved into some chairs and had our faces painted.

"What do we do now?" Sydney leaned forward.

"Wait for the signal."

"Ladies, come on, come on," came a loud voice, and then a quick sharp push. Sydney and I both jumped and turned. I relaxed my hand out of its fist. A short lady with a clipboard and earpiece waved at us. "Get out there. Two minutes till the curtain's up."

And then I looked around, and my heart sank. We were surrounded by about fifteen women who were wearing the same outfit I was. The other five that remained were wearing Sydney's dress. We were part of a troupe. Why didn't the guys mention this to us? I wasn't prepared to dance – tonight, or any night.

"We can't dance tonight," we said at the same time.

"Who says?" the lady asked in a gravelly, no bullshit voice.

"I-"

"We're not dancers."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a _performer_. _An actress," _she mocked and laughed. "I really don't care, sweetheart. Just get out there."

When we both just stared, her expression turned stern, her voice low. She jerked her thumb at the curtain. "Get out _there_, or you're out of _there_." Her thumb moved to gesture the back door.

Sydney swallowed.

So, that's how two minutes later, we ended up on the stage, with 20 seconds to spare. I should have just punched the lady. Sydney wouldn't let me.

We both crouched down next to each other, mimicking the others. Sydney and I exchanged a panicked look. And then the curtains were up.

Blinding light greeted us. And then the music started blaring, loud and raucous. _Move,_ my brain yelled. Sydney was in sync soon enough, with me closely following. Most of the moves were simple enough. Others required a little more acrobatics; some careful manoeuvring. And yeah – some of them were slutty as hell. I pulled out my man eating smile, one I hadn't used in a full effect for a while. Sydney even managed a sultry look I never would have thought I'd ever see on her.

We kept to the back as much as possible, but found ourselves in the front a few times. The view of the crowd was a little clearer from the front. My eyes immediately sought out Dimitri and Adrian. I found them easy enough…but could barely believe what I saw.

They were sitting in a back booth, shrouded in shadows, but still discernible…and were surrounded by a group of scantily clad female waitresses. They were all dressed in skimpy school girl outfits, with barely buttoned collared shirts and short pleated skirts.

A red haired lady was even sitting in Dimitri's lap and had her arms around his neck. He pushed away, but barely. _Bitch._ My moves became forceful and my vision blurred red.

_She was in my man's lap, in my position, doing my move._ I hoped that my homicidal thoughts didn't translate into my expression.

I suppressed the urge to go punch them, instead entertaining a beautiful fantasy where I punched them and pulled their hair extensions out.

_Those bastards._ Dimitri and Adrian were even smiling back. They were enjoying this.

The music finally ended, after what felt like an eternity. Sydney panted.

"Did you see them?" I asked simply.

"Oh yes." Sydney's gold eyes met mine and turned hard. "Adrian is dead."

I pulled my gloves off and flexed my fingers. "Wonderful. I'll bury Dimitri's corpse next to him."

* * *

My phone chimed. I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward in my dressing chair.

"He's here. He's in one of the back booths, alone. Dimitri and Adrian tried to approach him, but he's pretty carefully guarded."

I turned to Sydney. She looked away from the mirror. "We need to get a hold of his phone. Somehow…I don't know. Get the information off there."

Sydney deliberated. "Easy enough. We just have to get close."

"I thought getting close was the easy part."

Sydney smiled and put her earrings back on. "Let's go."

We would be easy to spot with our current outfits, and would immediately be sent back because we weren't even allowed out front. The waitresses were the only ones allowed out there.

Finding no spare uniforms backstage, Sydney and I decided we would do a swap. Find two waitresses, knock them out, and take their clothing and positions.

The whole operation was my job.

"You think you can do that?"

The smile I gave her was jubilant. "Gladly."

And I knew just the waitress I wanted to go for.

The skanky redhead was walking back to the bar with an empty tray, muttering something about her hot Russian customer and his pretty boy companion when I found her.

She didn't even see it coming. I knocked her out, admittedly hitting her a little harder than was necessary, and hid her behind some boxes in the supply room. Once I had what I needed from her, I left her and her rapidly developing black eye. Sydney's girl was easy. I was backstage with our outfits within ten minutes.

I pulled the skimpy garters on and grunted. "I'll do the seducing and the distracting. You grab the phone and do what you have to do."

She simply nodded.

* * *

"How's your evening going, darling?" I asked, leaning down and smiling, keeping my voice low and slow. Slipping past his guards was easy enough. One smile, and they all parted like the Red Sea. The man's eyes immediately moved down to my chest. His eyes widened, his mouth slackened. Perfect response.

"Mind if we join you?" I looked briefly behind me and gestured with a finger.

Sydney came up behind me and flashed a smile. The buttons I had insisted she leave open drew its own stare.

"Sure." He smiled easily enough, looking nearly like his likeness in the photograph. I slipped into the booth next to him and immediately trailed my fingertips down the front of his collar. This close, he had a clear view down my dress. And his eyes almost immediately went there.

"Mmmm. Silk?"

Sydney slipped in from the other side and touched him on the shoulder. "Definitely," she whispered.

The man was our putty with those two touches. I moved my lips to his ears and breathed, "We love silk. Especially when we sleep with it." My next words were grave. "With absolutely nothing on."

The man shuddered. Some shouting nearby almost diverted his attention, but I was there with my next move. His grin began to slip when I slipped my hand onto his thigh, achingly slowly. That move turned his eyes wild.

Behind him, Sydney's eyes met mine. She was done.

"But, we have plans tonight." I smiled and retreated, removing my hand. "Maybe another night."

"What?" The man jerked up. His voice was growing louder. The dark booth gave us cover, but that would quickly be shattered if he called people over. "All of that, and you're going to walk away?"

I shook my head, "No, I-"

"You slut!"

The man's hand closed around my wrist. And then he was flying backward. A fist had broken out and connected with the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted with the crunch of his nose.

I turned, and sure enough, there was Dimitri. His face was full of rage, his eyes dark. Seconds later, it became clear that Dimitri hadn't thought his decision through. The target's five bodyguards descended on us and surrounded the three of us.

Dimitri and I exchanged a look. And then we dived in. I took on two guys, and Dimitri took the other three. Two guys were down in a minute. The remaining three were bigger and brutish. One of them threw me down so hard I was sure I had broken a rib. Punches were thrown, jaws were broken, blood dripped.

Sydney even managed a punch and a knee in the groin. Adrian soon joined the fray, and managed a punch or two. I didn't think I'd ever see the day when Adrian would compromise his "precious hands". I guess seeing a man attempt to choke his wife was enough to force his hand. Under normal circumstances, our situation would have been hilarious. A big angry Russian man, a handsome rich playboy, and two slutty school girls were throwing around a bunch of grown men.

When we finally stepped away from the pile of bloodied guys, the commotion had drawn people near. Suspicion was starting to stir.

Dimitri grabbed my hand, and Adrian grabbed Sydney's.

"Time to go."

* * *

"Man, this guy calls a stripper service every week. If that's not loneliness…" Sydney commented from the back seat. Adrian had his arm around her and she was snuggled into his warmth, casually scrolling through the copied phone. Sydney's eyes looked weary, her face lined with fatigue, her make up smudged. But she looked satisfied.

"You guys did well." That was Dimitri.

"Well? We did great. We were an awesome, unstoppable, badass team. Right Rocky?"

I reached behind me for a fist bump. Sydney chuckled.

"And I could have handled that guy. You didn't have to step in and ruin the cover."

Dimitri's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. His eyes grew intense. I smiled. Oh, jealously. "I know. I just thought I'd take this one, especially since you had already done a fair share of your own punching tonight."

I whipped around. "How did you know that? Did you see me?"

They both laughed, but it was Adrian who replied. "The girls you knocked out came around and started making a commotion. One started describing her assailant: A big, angry girl with crazy eyes, peacock feathers and red beads."

We all laughed. I surveyed my bruised, skinned knuckles. "Big angry girl? Which one? The redhead?"

"Yeah."

"I had to. I punched your slut."

Dimitri turned, nearly laughing. "-My what?"

"Oh you heard me, buddy."

"I saw you too," Sydney chimed in, her voice cold. Adrian's reply did not come.

"We were playing a cover!"

I scoffed. "Is that why you were all over them?"

"Hey, there were all over us!" Adrian protested.

"And you fought so hard against that," Sydney murmured back. "I can conjure fire."

Adrian paled.

"And I know how to handle a knife."

Dimitri flinched.

**OUT-TAKE:**

I rolled down the window and leaned out, offering Adrian and a tired Sydney a smile. She looked about ready to keel over onto the pavement.

"Thanks guys. Get some sleep. We'll see you tomorrow."

Adrian suppressed a yawn and managed a half wave.

"Bye."

And then we were off.

I glanced down at my outfit. "Gosh. I can't wait to get out of this." I sniffed the fabric. "It smells like cheap perfume, sweat, and sex."

Dimitri laughed and then looked over. A sly smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"I kind of like it."

I stared.

"Maybe," he shrugged, "you could keep it on for tonight."

I lowered my voice and smiled. "Oh, Comrade."

**Review? This is probably my last update for a little while. There might be another. Not sure yet. **


	18. Smells Like Teen Spirit: Nirvana

**Last chapter.**

***UPDATE: MADE A FEW CHANGES TO THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER! It includes an out-take I wrote! Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: A line from 10 things I hate about you was borrowed. **

"How do I look? Be honest."

I looked back down at the dress and pulled at the hem nervously. It was a knee length beige dress, patterned with black lace, long sleeved and elegant. I had even gone so far as fashioning my hair into a loose chignon. It was Dimitri, and I knew he would have called me beautiful in a burlap sack, but for once, I wanted to look stunning. It wasn't often that I could pamper myself so thoroughly. I was always the shadow, never the person.

My parents, sitting next to each other on the coach, immediately looked up from the television screen. Silence ate the room. I didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. My father slipped his glasses off and gave me a brief onceover. My mother's expression, meanwhile, was unreadable.

"Nice," she finally smiled. Abe nudged her and then smiled. "Beautiful, daughter."

"Why'd you take so long to answer?"

My mother shrugged and then smiled wryly. "It's just weird. I never imagined us here. Sitting together. Watching you get ready for a date."

I nearly gagged. Janine Hathaway, the badass guardian, looked like she was going to cry. I turned and rolled my eyes.

"I saw that, young lady," Abe started sternly.

"Ugh! Dad!"

I really needed my own place. Staying with my parents had been great, don't get me wrong. We made up for all those lost years. Wonderful family bonding and all that. But I did have those moments when I wished I had it on my own. I could stay out late. Have people over. Okay, have someone over late. Fine, Dimitri over late.

I also didn't appreciate the frequent reminders of my parent's recent romantic attachment. Or the fact that they were…god, intimate at their age. I was never going to get the image of them furiously making out on the coach out of my mind. I always felt sort of dirty, and started to flinch, just sitting there on that coach, with them on either side of me. Dimitri and I were supposed to be the ones to christen the coach. Weren't we the teenagers?

It was also super weird. Asking how my outfit looked? That was a question I usually directed at Lissa. Or Sydney. But the parents? God, when did we become a fully-fledged family?

I was pacing. When had I ever been so nervous to see Dimitri? I glanced back at my parents and immediately answered my own question. They were usually in bed, reading or something, by this point in the night. They were…lingering.

"Okay, goodnight."

"Trying to get rid of us, are we?"

"I detect a suggestive tone, father. Drop it. I concede. You are hilarious."

The doorbell rang. The television was turned off. The parents were off the coach. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

And there he was, standing on the moonlit doorstep, as gorgeous as ever, hands behind his back. I was so accustomed to seeing his badass persona that seeing him on my doorstep looking vulnerable and anxious was amusing. He looked like my pubescent chaperone for prom, nervous and fumbling on his knees before my parent's military drill.

Some of that nervousness evaporated as soon as he looked at me. I watched his eyes quickly and discreetly take me in, and then looked him straight in the eye. I saw everything I wanted to see there.

He held out a beautiful rose to me and I gladly accepted, save for the roll of my eyes. A _rose?_

"Ah, Belikov." That was my father. I had nearly forgotten that they were there.

I grabbed Dimitri's arm and stepped out the door. "I thought we could just head straight out, save time…"

Abe clicked his tongue, and I froze. _Zmey was getting his way, either way_. Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes, I dragged Dimitri back inside. _God help him. _

My mother had her arms crossed and began the barrelling ram of questions. "Where do you guys plan on going?"

"Dinner. Then a walk down the beach, maybe? It's a beachside restaurant."

Abe cleared his throat. "When do you plan on bringing my daughter home?"

"9:00, sir. We both have work tomorrow, so no late night out."

"Form of transportation?"

Dimitri raised an eyebrow and gestured behind him. "Car."

"Do you plan on making her pay?"

"No, sir."

"Do you plan on taking her anywhere else you haven't listed, and stealing say..." Abe shrugged, his face pensive, "15 minutes of her private time."

Whoa. "Dad!"

Dimitri looked amused. "No."

"Touching?"

"Minimal."

Janine nodded and then whispered something into Abe's ear. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp. Finally, he nodded.

"Go ahead. Have a nice time."

I scoffed. "After that interrogation? Yes, I'll definitely try."

My father's expression turned dark and cold. "I once had a man's eye cut out forcefully while I watched. No limits, my friend."

We all stared. Even Janine seemed shocked. I cleared my throat. "Alright, Zmey. You have Dimitri sufficiently terrified. We're going."

They watched us all the way to the car. I could feel their eyes, burning into the back of my skull. Just before we climbed in, Abe called one more time, "I know every cop in town, bucko!"

Once we were inside, I slammed my head against the dashboard several times.

"I am so, so, sorry."

I grabbed Dimitri's lapels and started lightly shaking him. "Why do you still want to go out with someone whose father could have you castrated and hung, and a mother who could crush you and make it look like an accident?"

Dimitri laughed.

I pointed exasperatedly behind me. "Did you hear that display back there? Open ended threats and interrogations? They're psycho! Completely mental."

"They care about you. It's sweet." And then he reached out to clasp my hand.

"Risk taker tonight are we? Not scared you'll have your eyes or ears ripped off?"

"Maybe I'm hoping this will go unseen."

I clicked my tongue. "Huh. Sneaky. A move my father won't see."

Dimitri sobered and replied gravely, "He has his ways."

I laughed.

* * *

The air was crisp and salty at the restaurant, the crashing of the beach waves simply a gentle hum in the distance. The restaurant was elegant and sophisticated, but had a relaxed, casual feel to it. The tables were draped in soft cream table cloths and adorned with flickering candles, and fragrant calla lilies. The scent of home baked bread and melting butter filled the air, and Norah Jones crooned into the night.

Dimitri pulled my chair out for me. Dinner was beautiful, quiet, and normalcy I had wanted for what seemed like half an eternity for us. We held hands on the table, we conversed happily about light hearted topics. I learnt things about him that I had never known. I never knew that he preferred seafood over meat, I never noticed that he always toasts his bread.

Dimitri had no qualms about my dilemma with the menu. He told me to order whatever I wanted, and I happily complied. My stomach was full to bursting soon enough with so much deliciousness; crusty bread with homemade butter, stuffed mushrooms, rib eye steak, poached scallops, and a slice of creamy, perfect tiramisu.

That's why, I was super thankful for Dimitri's proposed walk on the beach later. We held hands and he gave me his jacket when it got chilly. I swung my shoes around and smiled, and told him why when he asked. Everything was so perfect. If I blinked, I was sure it would all just disappear.

We sat on the beach about half way down and laid down together. We spoke about constellations, about travelling, about going everywhere and anywhere with each other. We spoke about hopes and dreams. We spoke about the future. The possibilities were infinite, they were endless, like the stars that sparkled overhead.

With our planets finally so perfectly in line, my heart was overflowing with happiness. I kissed him with such surprising, impassioned, teenage ardour that he gasped into my mouth. When we stopped for a breath, we still kept close; foreheads touching, eyes closed, lips close.

The water lapped at our feet and washed away the grains of sand. I could have spent my whole life on that beach with him, just lying there. Sooner than I would have liked, and often forced to be the responsible one, Dimitri was hovering over me with his hand outstretched. I got up, and we headed home.

The brakes were pulled, and here we were, at the beginning. I looked out the window at the house, looking for lights, for peeking toms through curtains, for any presence. Satisfied, I whipped around and kissed Dimitri full on the mouth, pushing him back into his seat. His response was immediate and instinctive, and completely wild. He grabbed me firmly around the hips and pulled me into his seat. I pulled myself as close as I could get to him, feeling him under my fingertips; his warmth, his love, his lust.

When we finally paused our furious kissing, I placed my ear against his chest, my arms around his neck, and listened to his thumping heart, feeling my own reverberate with his. Our collective haggard breathing had fogged up the car windows, so suspiciously Titanic-esqe, that we rolled down the windows. Abe could, and probably was watching. But I didn't care. This wasn't a daughter's defiant, rebellious act against her parents. I love Dimitri. And this was one of the best nights of my life. I told him as much. I kissed him, several more times, and then finally, reluctantly, let go, and headed back in.

My sandy shoes in my hands, a silly smile plastered across my face and my lips still throbbing from his kisses, I closed the door behind me and sank to the floor.

And then, a lamp flicked on. And there was Abe. Terrifying, mobster _Zmey_, with a book in his armchair, waiting for me in the dark. His eyes were watching me from the shadows, liquid black and horrifying.

My heart nearly failed. I clutched at my chest. So much for guardian instincts. "Dad! Holy shit!"

Another lamp clicked on. Janine.

"How was it?" she leaned forward and tried for a smile.

"It was-" I shook my head. The giddiness was back.

"Keeping in mind that I do not want to hear everything," Abe interrupted.

"It was great," I ended, lamely, leaving my parents in the lounge room, still smiling.

Abe stared after his daughter. "You think she had any idea I had her followed?"

"None," Janine replied.

**Review? Please?**


	19. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde: The Who

**I watched She's the Man yesterday. I couldn't resist. Some scenes are my own creation. Others are not. The ending is pretty abrupt. But I had to wrap it up somewhere. These are one shots. **

Try and keep it cool, Rose. Damn it. You can do this. I gritted my teeth. "I am a dude! I am a hunky dude! I'm a badass hunky dude!"

I breathed in and out, a little harder than necessary, and threw the door open…only to find two guys sitting in what was supposed to be my room. I froze.

"Hey," I shouted. I flinched. _Too much._ I tried again. "Hey. What up?"

"Hey," the tall guy murmured, nodding. I quickly sized him up, in the way Adrian had shown me, and nearly stopped breathing. _Whoa._ He had shoulder length brown hair and warm, liquid brown eyes. He was also hot. Very hot.

I flinched.

The other guy was cute, blonde, with a smattering of freckles and pale skin. He nodded at me too, deftly spinning a soccer ball on his fingertips.

I offered the tall one a shaky hand. Biting my lip, I steadied myself. _Be a man._

"Ros-Roswell."

"Dimitri." He jerked his head at the other guy. "This is Ivan."

I laughed nervously. "You must be my roommates."

"No, just me," Dimitri smiled. _Oh, lord._

"You sure you're in the right place?" Ivan frowned.

I laughed again, and gave him an anxious look. "What do you mean?"

"You're tiny, freshman. How old are you?"

I grinned. "I skipped a couple of grades. I'm brilliant. Shhhh."

They both stared. _Wrong audience._

"Anyway, do you know when soccer tryouts start?"

Ivan spoke up, "Noon. You play?"

I snorted and turned to unpack my bag. "Absolutely. Centre forward. You know it, bro. So you play the beautiful game... bro? Brothers? Brethren?"

"I'm a striker, Ivan is a half back," replied Dimitri. I could hear the smile in his voice. I nearly melted. Instead, I furrowed my eyebrow, and turned, "Schveet."

And then: "Okay, why do you have tampons in your boot?"

I froze. _Shit._ I stopped breathing. And then I blurted: "I get really bad nose bleeds."

_What?!_ I turned and smiled. Dimitri's expression was strange and unreadable. Ivan looked disgusted.

"So, you stick them up your _nose?_"

I flinched. "Yes."

_Sell it._ I tried for an expression of mock surprise. "What? You've never done that?"

"Oh, my... Beckham does it all the time." I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I _almost _believed it myself.

Ivan grimaced. "Seriously?"

I shook my head. "Yes. Look. I'll just show you how to do it." I grabbed one and roughly ripped the purple paper off. "Take that off…whatever that is. And you stick it right in." I shoved it up there and shrugged. "It absorbs right up."

"That's disgusting," Dimitri said simply, smiling.

"Oh, my God, your roommate's a freak." Ivan muttered, shaking his head.

Great. I was stuck in a room with a hot guy for a couple of weeks. And he thought I was a freak.

* * *

The soccer tryouts went horrendously. I was tired within minutes. The coach pushed us hard, harder than I had ever been pushed. I had apparently been doing nothing my whole life. Squats, drills, running, push ups, sit ups. By the end of it, I had buried my head in the grass, unable to even move. Pain surged from every bone in my body, from every muscle in my body.

And, I was put as a reserve. Ivan got through. So did Dimitri.

The next week or so was horrible. I didn't get to play, I couldn't take a shower because of those damned shared dormitory showers, had a serious dandruff problem as a result of no showers, and was barely getting through the school work. The principal was being super friendly, and always seemed to hang around. I was sure I had seen him washing windows and trimming the hedges last week. I was also starting to stink. Dimitri didn't say a thing, of course. But I could have sworn that I had seen him grimace once.

I called up Sydney one afternoon on the hockey field, in the middle of scratching my hair furiously.

"Yes?"

Her voice did it. I nearly cried. "Come and pick me up. Take me away from this place. I haven't taken a shower in a week, and people are barely speaking to me because I'm this huge freak/hillbilly."

Sydney hummed. "Hang in there. I think I might have an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

"Do you trust me?"

I paused. My silence was brief. "Yes."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Then trust me. I got this."

* * *

Sydney's plan worked perfectly. Making me out to be some kind of man-whorish asshole got me in good with the guys. They had some weird respect for me now. I was a god.

Sydney also gave me a solution to the smell problem: Get up early and shower.

I was clean, respected, and strutting my stuff all over campus. Life was good.

And then, one afternoon, someone approached me. Someone I never thought would ever come to me for something like this.

Dimitri.

He couldn't look me in the eye, and spoke just above a whisper. "I need your help. I like this…girl. And I don't know what to do, or say."

I stared.

"You?" I choked. "Need my help? With girls?"

He frowned. "Yeah. Why?"

"You're hot," I declared. And then reconsidered with a cough, "You're a vaguely appealing man guy. Guy man." _Oh god._

I cleared my throat and frowned. "What do you need?"

"I need help with talking to this girl. I don't know what to do. I just kind of…" he paused. "Stare at her when I see her. The words just evaporate."

I nearly laughed. "It's not hard. Girls like being talked to. Especially when the guy is decent. Here. I'll practice with you."

I stood up and motioned for him to join me.

"What?"

"I want to try something. I'll act like a girl, and you're going to talk to me."

"Do I have to?"

I slipped back into my normal voice, for the first time in days. "Yes! Because I'm Rose. Dimitri? Nice to meet you."

Dimitri stepped back, looking shocked. "That was creepy. You really just sounded like a girl just then."

I casually shrugged. "I used to imitate my sister all the time. I got really good at it. Come on. And get up! Come on. Ask me some questions, and if the chemistry's right, things'll just start flowing."

"Questions about what?"

I don't know! "Anything. Ask me if...I like...cheese."

He looked bewildered, but continued anyway, "Okay…do you like cheese?

I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes. "Why, yes I do. My favorite's Gouda."

His response was slow, and said with a half-smile. "I like Gouda too."

I nudged him. "See?"

"See what?"

I motioned eagerly between us. "We're flowing."

"We're talking about cheese!" he declared exasperatedly.

"So what? Flow is flow."

Wait, what is that? I looked down at my foot and jumped, nearly into Dimitri's arms. A spider. Someone started screaming. No. Correction: I started screaming. And then I hugged Dimitri. And climbed on top of him. Once we both realised what I was doing, the silence was awkward. The spider was stowed away. I disembarked from him. We looked at each other.

Dimitri shuddered. "You don't ever, ever do that girl voice again."

"My bad," I panted.

* * *

It was still raining, and glancing over, I watched Dimitri's sleeping form. My heart twisted. I pulled the covers up over my body and squeezed my eyes. How had I ended up here?

Oh, yeah. It had all began like this:

"This is my coach, Miss Hathaway. This is my Uncle Dimitri, Miss Hathaway."

I froze. _Please don't be my Dimitri, please don't be my Dimitri._ I turned.

And sure enough, there he was. He smiled at me, almost nervously.

I swallowed and buried my nervousness. I was Rose now, not Roswell. I've never met Dimitri before. Slowly, I extended my hand. "Call me Rose."

I couldn't concentrate the rest of the afternoon. I breathed in fear, watching Dimitri from the corner of my eye, scared that my mannerisms or smile would give me away. I was too close to this for it to end.

Afterward, Zoe approached me, smiling from ear to ear, Dimitri in tow. My heart sank.

"Where are you going now Miss Hathaway?"

I smiled and tapped her on the head. "I'm off to catch a bus to my friend's home."

"A bus?" Dimitri asked, frowning.

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and sighed. "Yeah. My car is in for repairs. So, the bus."

And then, being Dimitri, he had to go: "I can drive you. There's a storm tonight. It's no problem at all."

That sent Zoe into a frenzy. And it was settled. That's how I ended up in the car with Dimitri, with him driving me through the stormy night to Sydney's. Except, we never made it. The rain was beating down too hard, and the wheels were starting to skid. Not wanting to take any risks, we finally decided to pull over for the night and book a motel.

Dimitri had been pretty silent throughout the drive, save for a few responses to my nervous chatter. I knew why. He didn't know how to talk to girls. He told me that himself. No. He had told Roswell. When I randomly declared that I was hungry, he even offered me some brownies Ivan had given him. I chowed down at least 3 and managed to get him one down his throat.

So, I guess what happened later was completely my fault. I shouldn't have eaten the brownie. Ivan made brownies. That should have been the red flag. They were pot brownies! Soon enough, the effects started setting in. I started laughing, and became inexplicably thirsty. Dimitri started to smile, and wouldn't stop smiling. He was laughing soon enough. That was the last thing I remembered. The rest was a blur. The next thing I did remember was his kiss. His warm, sweet lips against my own, fiery and burning me alive. He chased away the cold and the rain, and wrapped me with such warmth that I was sure I had flown away.

We didn't make love, but there was some serious intimacy. He laid me back onto the bed and kissed me. He peeled my shirt away, he kissed my wet hair, my eyes, my wet lips, my collarbone. I held him close, so close my fingertips dug into his skin. But he didn't mind. He held on tighter.

That was how it all began. And I was here now, terrified. Absolutely terrified he would find out, and terrified of his anger when he found out I had deceived him. As a man, and as a woman.

Dimitri woke around six, and I clamped my eyes shut. Eventually, of course, I had to face him. I took a shower, and headed down to the diner. _There he was._ I took a deep breath and sat opposite him. And then I looked at him.

And what did he say? "Do you like cheese?"

_Oh lord._

* * *

Of course the girl Dimitri needed help with was me. It was just my luck. It turned out he had seen me a few times after coaching soccer practice, but had never plucked up the courage to approach me. Until now. Because of me. Because of Roswell.

His niece was on my team! How had I not put it together? And god, why didn't I meet him before all of this?

At any other point in my life, I would have appreciated all the attention. But I kept having to reschedule for dates. It clashed with soccer practice, or school work, or classes. I…liked him. And it wasn't just for his looks. He was sensitive, kind, sweet. He respected girls. He was funny, thoughtful…god, he was perfect. But he didn't know that the girl he likes sleeps in the same room as him, a metre away from him, every night. It was the ultimate betrayal.

In return for my 'help', Dimitri began helping me with soccer. He even enlisted Ivan when he wasn't free. Together, their work produced a new me. It almost made me feel guilty. But I was faster, stronger, and better as a result. And the coach noticed. He told me as much.

I was in for the game. I almost screamed. Instead, I hugged Dimitri. And took it too far. My hands slipped down lower than they should have for Roswell. He shook me off with an awkward jerk.

Things were going wonderfully. I had friends, school was going well, I had Dimitri and Ivan, and soccer was finally working out.

* * *

"I feel horrible," I told Sydney. A whole buffet of good food couldn't even distract me.

Taking our full plates, we headed back to the table. I frowned and looked down at my plate. Even tiramisu couldn't make me feel better. It tasted bland and warm. Sydney reached over and placed her hand over mine. Her eyes were sad.

"It's going to be okay, Rose. You have nothing to feel horrible about! You're doing what you have to do."

"You don't understand!" I exclaimed. I fingered my fork and pushed the food around. I felt horrible. Like the worst person alive. "I betrayed him. We were…intimate."

Sydney choked. "You…were…what?"

"Not like that. We kissed."

"Oh. Well, that's not too bad." She paused and became thoughtful. "Have you ever thought about telling him everything?"

"Are you crazy? Hell no. I've taken it too far. And what if he rats me out? I've done too well to give it all up. But…I still feel bad."

Sydney smiled. "Well, maybe's it's a story you can laugh about one day."

"Maybe."

I smiled back and stopped playing with my food.

"Bathroom?" Sydney offered.

I looked myself in the mirror and smiled while I waited for Sydney. Rose smiled at me. But so did Roswell. This was getting weird. And confusing. Maybe giving it up was the healthier option. All of this was too Jekyll and Hyde for me.

"When are you meeting Adrian?" I called.

Sydney laughed. "Mr Ivashkov is coming to pick me at 3. Right now actually. But, he's late. Of course."

I was about to laugh myself, when I glanced over and realised the girl in front of the mirror opposite me had frozen. Her still fingertips had let her lipstick go, and it was currently rolling around the sink. Her half painted lips were frozen in an 'O'.

The reasons for her sudden surprise were made clear a few minutes later, when Sydney emerged from the bathroom. The girl turned to her, and her eyes narrowed into something cold and horrible.

"Adrian Ivashkov?"

Sydney glanced over, taken aback. "Huh?"

"You're with Adrian Ivashkov."

Sydney's nod was slow.

"He's mine."

Sydney spluttered. "Excuse me?"

The girl's crazy talons gripped the edge of the sink, hard. "He's mine. We weren't supposed to break up. We were on a break."

And then we understood. Adrian had been quite the playboy, sleeping around and jilting girls, left, right and centre until he met Sydney. She knew about his past, and had grown to accept it. This girl was talking about a different Adrian. Sydney told her as much.

"Well, that was a different Adrian. He's with me now."

She started it. I swear it. And when she started pushing around my best friend, I started something. She dug her slutty talons into Sydney's shoulders and threw her back against the door. Thus began our bitch fight.

I jumped on her back, shoved her against the sink, grabbed her heeled feet and dragged her across the bathroom. Sydney's fight was cleaner and her fighting style not as scrappy; she managed a slap or two and some hair pulling.

Our shouts and yells drew people soon enough, and when all three of us were finally prised apart and kicked out of the establishment, we were bloody and bruised. To my delight, it was clear in the bright light that the girl had gotten out worse. She had broken a few nails, hair extensions, and her nose. Our only real drawback was our clothes. Furious scratching and shoving and pulling had rendered our clothes unwearable. We looked like we had survived a fight with a tiger.

Adrian froze when he finally arrived to pick us up. The car keys he was flicking around on his fingertips stilled when he took us in. He stared. And then he let out a low whistle.

Sydney, her hair wild, her make up smudged, shook her finger at Adrian. "This…this is all your fault," she panted.

He simply held his hands up.

Dimitri had no questions about my state when I arrived back at the dorm. My bruises were an ugly purple, and my nose had started to bleed. He shrugged and tossed a box of tampons at me. I almost smiled.

* * *

I should have figured. Things were going to well for me. The gig was up. Ivan had put the clues together, and wasted no time in telling Dimitri. The early morning showers, the disappearances whenever Dimitri had a date, and my missing sideburn one afternoon? That had called for some serious investigation. It was too suspicious, he told me.

Dimitri was furious.

"How could you do this to me?"

I had no words. I had simply stared at him, unable to even string together a sorry.

I was kicked out of the school and had to deal with the humiliation of being picked up by mother, who gave me a good earful all the way home. Somehow, with some strings pulled, and favours called, I was able to graduate. My credits were transferred over, and it turned out that I had enough to graduate.

My friends and family were there, cheering me on, whistling when I threw my hat into the air with everyone else. The only person missing was Dimitri. Ivan had come, but Dimitri had declined. I hadn't heard a word from him in weeks. Even after I sent him the invitation with a case of Gouda, I hadn't heard a word. It seemed I was beyond his forgiveness.

"Its fine, Rose," Sydney murmured.

Adrian leaned forward and tossed the tassel on my hat. "You don't know. He still might turn up."

"I doubt it. He was furious."

Sydney slipped her arm through mine and led me to the refreshment table. She knew I couldn't resist food. "You think they have Gouda?"

Sydney was puzzled. "Why?"

"Because Gouda's her favourite," came a voice.

My heart twisted.

My eyes glittered with tears. Because when I turned, there he was, standing in a crisp black suit, smiling at me. I didn't want to blink. But he didn't disappear when I did.

"Can we talk?" He held a hand out to me, and I took it.

He led me behind the school building, to a cherub fountain that was cheerfully bubbling away. We sat on the edge of the marble rim. I put my head down.

"I'm so sorry," I started. He held a hand up at me.

"I miss my roommate. I really liked him. I trusted him-"

"I know. I know. And I went ahead and broke that. I should have told you…but I was scared, scared you-" He clapped a hand over my mouth and smiled.

"Let me finish. I understand. And maybe if I'd have known you were a girl, we wouldn't have talked like we did and got to know each other the same way. And that would have been a shame. I liked you as a girl. And I told you everything as a guy." He paused. And then chuckled.

"You can speak now."

I moved my hand to cover his. "Just so you know, everything you told me when I was a guy just...made me like you so much more as a girl.

He smiled. "Okay, but just from here on in, everything would just be a lot easier if you stayed a girl."

"That goes without saying," I laughed. Then, he reached for me. And he kissed me. I had nearly forgotten what a good kisser he was. When we finally pulled away from each other, our breathing was haggard. I leaned my forehead against his and then murmured, "Where do things go from here?"

"Above and beyond. Oh." He frowned, and leaned back. "There was one more thing."

I waited. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense!"

"Your college of choice apparently has a co-ed soccer team. And I might be applying there too."

I stared. And then I jumped into his arms, kissed his smiling face, kissed him. My hat tipped back and fell off, but I didn't care. Not when I was here, and everything was finally where it should be.

**For those wondering why I use Sydney as Rose's best friend, instead of Lissa, it's because I like Sydney! Not a fan of Lissa, never have been, never will be. And where there is Sydney, there is Adrian! BONUS?!**


	20. You Were Made For Me: Sam Cooke

**A little bit of the Adjustment Bureau of you. Previous chapters have now been edited...a little!**

_Ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to tell you that I will get back up…but tonight's not about me, it's about coming together and welcoming the new senator of the state of New York._ I closed my eyes and breathed. _Mason Ashford._

I was about to repeat those painful words again, to employ a chipper tone, to make it sound happier than it was, when a sound alerted me to a presence in one of the stalls I had previously thought vacant. I thought I heard someone swear. _Shit. _I froze.

"Hello?" I called out.

The door opened, and to my complete disbelief, a woman strode out, holding in her arms an overcoat, a pair of high heels and what appeared to be a bottle of champagne. _A woman. In the men's toilet._

I stared. She looked at me briefly before putting her head down and silently walked to the taps.

All I could manage was a simple, dumbfounded, "It's the mens."

"Yep," she said simply. This close, I studied her. She had waist length dark hair, pulled back a little with an artful knot at the back of her head. She was wearing a striking blue dress, a curious combination of lace and silk. Black lace patterned the blouse, and a long, silky blue material wrapped around her hips, flowing down to just past her bare feet. _Beautiful._

She arrested her belongings onto the counter and proceeded to wash her hands before speaking once more. When she finally faced me, her expression was blank, her earrings swinging like pendulums from her ears.

"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just didn't know what to do. Because I heard you come in and say hello and I probably should have say hi, but then I thought that would be weird, cause it's the mens."

She swallowed. "Um...and then you started talking to yourself and...and it was obviously very personal, so I was kinda stuck in no mans land. And uh...then it all got it to be too much, so I came out."

She was rambling. I smiled in spite of myself, still a little bewildered. "Wh...What are you doing in here?"  
She shrugged, and then hesitated before continuing, "Just...I'm hiding from security."  
Amused, and still smiling, I scoffed. "Why?"  
She didn't flinch. "I crashed a wedding, upstairs." Her brown eyes moved upward in indication.

I shook my head slightly in bewilderment. "People still do that?"

"It was a dare."

"Who dared you to crash a wedding?

"Me."  
Before I could stop myself, words were leaving my mouth. I didn't know what compelled me to reveal something personal, so random, so possibly scandalous to a complete stranger. "I crashed a wedding once."  
"Did you?"  
"Yeah. In high school."  
"Oh!"  
We both laughed. It was…nice. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so relaxed. Certainly not in the last few days, that I knew.

"But I got caught, I spent the night in jail."  
She nodded and then remarked boldly, "I think that happened more than once from what I heard."

I stared. _Who is this girl?_ I was stunned.

"You're that guy running for senate, aren't you?"  
_That guy._ I smiled. "Yeah, I am that guy."  
"And judging from your speech, you're not winning?"  
I chuckled. "No."  
"Oh, that's too bad, the other guy's such a_ tool_."

I erupted in laughter. "He is a tool! I...I wish I could have made that clearer in the campaign ads."  
She smiled. "Yeah, I mean personally I think mooning your friends at a college reunion is no big deal."  
My smile sank. The aftereffects of that on my campaign had been horrific. I wouldn't be standing in a bathroom rehearsing a congratulatory speech if the scandal hadn't happened, or had blown over. "The Post did not have to run the photo."  
She shook her head. "Oooph, at least not a full page!"  
"Yeah, I know."

We both laughed at that. My heart felt a lighter again.  
Still laughing she went, "It's my favourite moment of your whole campaign."  
"Really? I could have used you on my team a couple months ago."  
She shrugged and then turned to hoist herself onto the counter. Amusement had left her features. She was serious now. "Yeah, I could help poll test every word that comes out of your mouth before you say it."  
"Oh, you like politicians then?"

Her reply was grave…and alluring. "I like it when they do stuff I can relate to."  
"Like pull their pants down."  
Her expression was deadpan, her tone serious. "I love that."

We both laughed. Unable to help myself, I moved closer to her. "See that kind of candidate wouldn't even get elected to the student council."

Her eyes moved to my tie, and her fingers moved out to clasp it. "My guy would know how to tie his own tie."

"It's a clip on."

"Oh, I wish," she whispered. "That would have been my other favourite moment of your campaign."  
My eyes widened, and they searched her face. I stared. _Was she flirting with me?_

"Do you still have a chance? Is it over?" she murmured.  
I stuttered, "He...he crushed me."  
She sighed. "Sorry."  
"Well, losing has its advantages."  
She swung her legs. "Like what?"  
"Uh...for one thing as a politician you're never really alone unless you're asleep or in the bathroom, usually." I smiled. "Uh...that gets...that gets old."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah, I mean I guess I'm mostly just looking forward to having sometime by myself."

A curious expression crossed her face. Almost…_knowing_. Like she was seeing into my naked soul with her all seeing eyes.  
She murmured her next words, her voice low. "I don't buy it. I think you love it."  
_How…?_ "It...do I know you?  
We both laughed.  
"Yeah, I guess I could have been more convincing."  
She slipped off the counter, keeping her gaze on me. "Okay, you don't have to worry about being convincing till the next election."  
I leaned toward her and joked, "Are you a registered New York voter?"  
Her next words struck me still. "Do I sound like I am?" She blinked.

I stared. My eyes searched hers; my body suddenly becoming hyperaware of the sliver of space, the little proximity between our bodies.

The air was thick and heady within a few moments. Our inexplicable connection crackled with electricity. My mouth grew dry.

We both moved forward at the same time, like magnets pulled to opposing poles. Our bodies slammed into each other. My arms went around her body, my hands in her hair, and my lips on hers. My response to her was instant, bewildering, and fiery. I had never felt an immediate connection to somebody, so quickly, so easily. I was a guarded person, I didn't let people come very close. Kissing a stranger in the men's toilets was something I didn't do anymore, or wasn't supposed to do anymore. But…I couldn't help it. And I didn't regret my decision for a moment.

She…she drove me crazy in just a few seconds. Nobody had ever done that before. Never in my life had I met a girl like her before. She had come out of nowhere and grabbed me, completely unaware, without even trying. She was a complete enigma. That and…I had never felt this way before. Not even close. My heart ached with a connection so spellbinding, so shocking that it reverberated through my very being, through my soul. We broke away. Her lips still hovered over mine, her arms secured tight around my shoulders.

My eyes clicked open. "Holy shit."

And then I leaned down, tilting my head down and meeting her lips once more.

**Review?**


	21. Sexual Healing: Marvin Gaye

**I believe that I got a few questions about whether the guy was Dimitri or not. Assuming these are all Dimitri and Rose oneshots, I think it's safe to say that the guy was Dimitri. **

**I didn't mention names because they never mentioned names in the movie. Matt Damon's character only found out her name during the second meeting!**

"Rose! We're going to be late. We'll lose our dinner reservation and I'm not sure I'll be able to…." I heard Dimitri call. I rolled my eyes and stepped back from the mirror, squinting, regarding my appearance critically. It was my wedding anniversary. I wanted to look damn good, regardless of whether or not Dimitri would tear this thing off me in the near future. Satisfied there were no flyways with my chignon, I strode out into the living room.

Dimitri had his back to me and was fiddling with his shoes.

"Rose, I'm coming in there to-"

When he finally turned around, he froze. His face went blank. His mouth slackened.

I smiled.

Years later, and I still drove him crazy. It was nice to know. I felt beautiful tonight, and I was glad he thought so too. I was in love with the dress. It was a short, knee length dress, with a V shaped black bodice and a full skirt of tulle and lace. It reminded me of what Grace Kelly had worn in Rear Window. The resemblance was uncanny. Sydney had given it to me for the special occasion, all smiles and winks.

"How do I look?" I gestured to the dress.

There was no response. Because he simply stood up, walked over, and kissed me. Exactly three years down the line, and I still couldn't believe that this was my husband. I really was the luckiest woman alive.

I pulled away and leaned my forehead against his. My heart beat wild.

"Beautiful?"

He looked scandalised. "So beautiful, it hurts."

This time I was the one without the response. So I kissed him.

* * *

By the time we got to the restaurant, it was late. And by the time we left, I could barely remember what time it was. Or what we had just eaten. Dinner was a blur. For the first time in my life, food had been at the back of my mind. Sure we had eaten. I think I had even eaten pasta. Maybe some dessert. What I did remember was some champagne. And some hand stroking. And smouldering eyes across the table. A fire was burning away in my stomach, burgeoning, hot and uncontrollable.

We barely made it through the door with clothing. I had already torn his tie and shirt off, and was furiously kissing him as the alarm bleeped incessantly. Once we had that settled, it was a fight to the bedroom, between all the kissing and mid-way stops on the walls.

"Maybe…we…should…turn…some…lights…on," I murmured between kisses. He had pressed me up against the bedroom door, straddling his hips, and he was kissing me so deeply, that I moaned right into his mouth. He was an incredible kisser, and the bastard knew it. He drove me wild within seconds. I breathed into his parted mouth, his kisses; barely breathing when our lips touched and when they didn't.

The pressure moved toward my neck. _Oh god._ Heat licked its' way up my body. My lips burned. I tangled my hands in his hair and pulled him closer, revelling in the incredible feeling of his lips against my skin, feeling his bare skin under my fingertips.

He grunted. And then his lips were back on mine and all of my thoughts vanished. Except this: _Clothing. Remove. Now. _

We didn't even make it to the bed. When we finally pulled away, panting and spent, we were curled up on the floor, pressed skin to skin, with a tattered blanket.

"That…" I grinned, pulling myself up onto my elbows. I was heady, and warm, and full of love. Strands of my hair stuck to my forehead. I kissed him soundly; his face, his cheek, his lips. "Best. Anniversary. Ever."

He smiled and then pushed a wet strand of my hair back. "Agreed."

Keeping my arms around his neck, I whispered into his parted mouth, "And we have all night, so I was thinking…."

He pulled me closer and his eyes glinted. "Oh? What were you thinking Mrs Belikov?"

"_Lots _of things."

And then he was kissing me. The intensity picked up soon after that, and we were quickly panting, and I was moaning, crying out for him, and oh so ready. And then we heard it. The unmistakeable sound of a key in the lock, and the doorknob turning. _Oh shit._

We both shot up from our position at the same time. We stared at each other.

And then our bedroom door flew open, and there came a cry, "Happy anniversary!"

For a second, everyone was smiling. Candles were sparkling. People were singing. Party trumpets were blown and party poppers were burst. And then they all froze. My family. My friends. Sydney, Adrian, Lissa, Christian, Jill, Eddie, my mother and my father. They all saw something they could never un-see.

Adrian's party trumpet slipped out of his slackened mouth. Sydney yelped and nearly dropped the cake. Eddie shielded Jill's wide eyes with a trembling hand. And my father. _God._ There was _Zmey_, in his colourful, over the top wardrobe and lopsided party hat, staring at us through what had to be a red haze. The bottle in his hands looked like it was two seconds away from shattering, his fingers were gripping it so tight they were white. Excessive internal pressure, or on Dimitri's head. It didn't think he would have any qualms about that.

I quickly pulled the blanket up higher over us and cleared my throat. I couldn't even string together some letters, a word, anything. A few awkward coughs sounded. Silence rang loud. Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. And then, everyone filed out, heads bowed, murmuring. _Zmey _had to be forcefully dragged out by my mother. He was still watching us over his shoulder with burning, dark, liquid brown eyes when the door closed. There was something murderous stirring in those eyes. _There would be blood tonight._

My cheeks were still burning, even after they left. I slapped Dimitri on the chest and hissed, "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know!" he cried desperately. He looked a little red around the ears.

I rolled my eyes. And then I stood up and proceeded to try and find articles of clothing and jewellery. Some were missing, which was concerning and embarrassing and horrifying. It meant it was somewhere out there in the living room, where our mortified friends and family were waiting.

Dimitri buttoned on a shirt and was shaking his head, muttering away in rapid Russian. I almost smiled, despite myself. I was no stranger to embarrassment and public situations. Dimitri? Complete 360. He was the most guarded person I knew. He was a stoic, well regarded soldier to the whole community. And he liked it that way. This other side, well…he reserved that just for me. This…this was scandalous.

"Did you invite anyone over?" I was on my hands and knees combing the carpet for my lost earring. Dimitri tore across the room in his boxers.

"No. No. It was just supposed to be you and me!"

"Well then why the hell are they here?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

He threw the pillows off the bed and tore the blankets away.

"God, where did you throw it?" His shirt was still half open, and his fly was undone. "Did you invite anyone?"

I shot him a glare from my position. "Of course not!"

Finally emerging victorious, he pulled his belt from under the pillow and threaded it through.

I froze.

Dimitri, walking past me, froze as well. "What?"

I turned, slowly. My next words were whispered. "My underwear. I don't know where my underwear is. I can't find it!"

Dimitri stared. And then he swallowed.

"Where the hell did you throw it after you tore it off?!"

"I don't remember!"

"You're dead. Say goodbye. Say goodbye _right_ now." I imagined _Zmey_ finding my underwear wedged between the coach cushions or something. I imagined him strangling Dimitri with one hand. _Oh god._

He smiled, one of those half-smiles from a lifetime ago, and kissed my forehead. "It's going to be fine. Just breathe. We'll find it. Just be...discreet."

"Oh god, what if Abe finds it?"

Dimitri frowned. "It's been three years. I'm your husband."

I gave him a look of incredulity.

"Oh Comrade, you are dead sexy, and crazy hot, but naive as hell. _Three years, and you still don't get it._" I shook him by the collar. "He's going to murder you for doing anything with his daughter."

His smiled, but kept his response simple: "Either way, we need to go. Missing underwear or not. The longer we keep them waiting..."

I pulled my earring on, ran over to the mirror, and smoothed my hair back into a ponytail. Then, with my eyes squeezed shut, I walked out of the room and into the living room.

And there was everyone. They were talking, albeit quietly, but quickly stopped when I entered. Everyone stared. I tucked a waif piece of hair behind my ears and kept my head down. I couldn't meet anyone's eyes, least of all my parents. The memories of what had just transpired were too fresh. My cheeks burned.

Dimitri appeared behind me shortly after that and discreetly pulled my zipper up. My blood boiled, just thinking about what we had been doing moments before. He cleared his throat, much like how I had earlier.

"Hey…guys."

The uncomfortable silence continued. And then Adrian stood up. He walked right over to us and offered me a folded white shirt. Dimitri's shirt. He motioned to my throat. I looked down. And sure enough, there were Dimitri's love bites. I was three seconds away from sinking down onto the floor in embarrassment. How had I missed that? I pulled on the shirt without a word.

My eyes silently searched the room for any other piece of clothing we had missed. My heart nearly failed. Because as luck would have it, there, there, sitting right near my mother's foot, slipped under the coach, was my missing underwear. Red, skimpy, and oh so obvious. _Oh. God._

I nudged Dimitri and silently looked over. The only sign that he understood was given when he squeezed my hand. His face remained stoic.

"Does anyone want coffee, or tea, or anything?"

Things never truly got completely comfortable after that. I swore I could still see Christian flinching occasionally. Any progress we made was usually broken by something uncomfortable. Dimitri's shirt buttons on the doormat. My earring near a living room wall. Dimitri's tie thrown on the sink tap.

Of course, Adrian could not resist throwing out some innuendos. _It's pretty hot tonight isn't it? You guys have some sanitiser?_ He even tried:_ Nice night, huh Belikov?_ with a little nudge that earned him three murderous stares. Sydney kept having to slap the back of his head. Despite it all, I honestly didn't mind the humour. It was a distraction. The awkwardness was starting to seep away. The mood was lighter. People were...laughing. And that was definitely better than staring or coughing.

The cake was cut. Candles were blown. Songs were sung and cheers were yelled. Sydney leaned over to me at one point and silently pressed something into the palm of my hand. A little red, scrunched up something. I would have hugged her. _Thank you._

Sydney was apologetic. "I am so, so sorry about this! I kept trying to stop everyone, but your father insisted. It was either this, or burst in at midnight. And you weren't even supposed to be home yet!"

"It's fine." I wish I could have believed that. I nervously glanced over and watched my father still staring at Dimitri over the rim of his scotch glass.

The party left shortly after that, chattering and chowing down on leftover cake. My father didn't say much throughout the entire evening. The redness had left most of his face, but he still seemed…cold. He simply nodded, and gave us a wan smile when he greeted us. It seemed he hadn't recovered from seeing his daughter naked with an older man. His recovery, however, was clear when he crushed Dimitri's hand with his 'friendly handshake' before he left, muttering repeatedly, "Looking forward to next time."

We stood at the door and waved them all goodbye. Adrian and Sydney were the last to leave. We could hear them murmuring from the doorstep as they walked away, despite their hushed tones. Adrian threaded his arm through Sydney's and muttered, "You could have told us they were doing something! My eyes will never recover!"

Sydney stamped down, hard, on Adrian's foot and hissed, "They can hear you!"

"Yes, we really can," I called.

Sydney laughed awkwardly and pulled at Adrian, "Come on, _George Carlin_."

"Hey, Sage, a pop culture reference…"

The door closed, and we both sighed with relief.

"We need to change the locks."

"Or we could lock the door on our bedroom."

We both nodded. And then our smiles grew.

"You know, it is our anniversary…" I slowly pulled the straps of my dress down and watched him stiffen.

"And there is still the rest of the evening." My earrings came off. My fingers went to his shirt.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" He stared. And then, he simply grabbed me around the waist and carried me to the bedroom. The door was slammed shut. Locked. He smiled. "In your words: Hell, yeah."

**Review! Shall I continue...?**


	22. Little Girl Blue: Nina Simone

**Exams over and I'm free! What to do….**

I coughed and pulled away from the sheets, kicking them away with my feet. At that small noise, Dimitri came tearing into the room, his eyes wild, his arms laden with little boxes, muttering away in Russian.

"Okay, okay. I got this cough syrup, some cold and flu tablets, some lozenges." He dumped the whole load on the bed. And then he turned to me, all smiles and worry.

"You okay?"

I gave him a look. I had been feeling rotten for days. I kept throwing up nearly everything I was eating. I had some horrible stomach cramps a day ago. I was constantly tired. I was sure it was some kind of stomach virus. It had to pass. The only problem was, I had lied to Dimitri. I had told him that I had gone to see the doctor, when in reality, I hadn't. It had to be some kind of gastro thing. But then again, illness like this in a dhampir was odd. We rarely got sick with our heightened immunity. If I had told Dimitri the truth, he would've killed me, and then dragged me to the doctor's office himself, only for the doctor to tell me something I already knew.

"Okay, stupid question." He moved my hair aside and anxiously felt my forehead. "No fever. You sure the doctor said it was a just a virus?"

I averted my gaze. My head throbbed as I sat up. "Yeah. It should pass in a couple of days."

He frowned. "Hmmm. I'll go and make something for you. Maybe some soup?"

"If I can keep it down."

"Take some medicine first, and take a nap. I'll be back with food in 15 minutes tops."

I smiled weakly. "Excellent work, hubby. I'm loving the five star treatment. I'll need a fancy napkin, a tall candle and a rose with all of that."

He chuckled and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "Yes, my queen. I live to serve."

When he finally left, after much persistence, and pillow fluffing, I flopped back onto the pillow and turned onto my side. There was something else I had been keeping from him.

I was late.

I hadn't gotten my periods on schedule. But…what did that mean? Surely I couldn't be…pregnant? It wasn't possible. I'm a dhampir. He's a dhampir. But then again…he was an ex-Strigoi. Had spirit done something to his genetic code? Something to make this possible? I moved my hand to cradle my belly. Could it be?

Tears built in my throat, tender and hard. Dimitri came back in that moment, and I instinctively clamped my eyes shut, feigning sleep, willing him away. A tear escaped the corner of my eye. He combed my hair back. He straightened my sheets. He kissed my cheek. He rubbed a eucalyptus rub into my forehead, and put a wet cloth on my forehead.

I didn't sleep. Not even a moment. The worry was eating away at every fibre of my being. I was an awful, horrible mixture of stung nerve endings.

He came back an hour later, telling me had to check into court for some work, and would be back in an hour. I managed a half smile, and squeezed his hand, despite my heavy heart, despite the lump in my throat. And then, I called Sydney. Sydney came quickly, and without any questions. The worry had churned to a boil by then. It spilled over. She listened through my story, listened through my tears, my confusion, my fear.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and rocked. "Is it even possible?"

Sydney squeezed my head and gave me a tight smile. "Under normal circumstances, no. But Dimitri's case is unique. We haven't even figured out all the changes the reversal made, let alone reproduction."

My eyes brimmed with fresh tears. "What if…what if it's true? I'm too young to do this Sydney. God, I love Dimitri. But this is too soon."

"I know, Rose. I know. But this is just one possibility."

I was inconsolable. "I always imagined children. But not now. I'm…" My words dissolved into tears. Sydney pulled me to her and cradled my head in her arms. When my sobs died down, she stroked my hair and murmured, "One way to figure all of this out. Let's see whether this is something to even worry about. Give me ten minutes. I'll be right back."

Her plan unravelled fairly quickly. Pregnancy test. 3 minutes. 3 minutes to find out whether my life was about to change. But of course, as luck would have it, as the 2 minute was about to tick away, Dimitri called from the door.

"Shit!"

We panicked. Sydney shoved the stick under the sink and shoved the box into her bag.

"Rose? Where are you?"

"In here."

Dimitri appeared at the bathroom door, smiling, only to quickly become confused. Sydney and I froze.

"Sydney? What are you doing here?"

"I-"

My nervous fingers desperately grabbed behind me and closed around something. My bottle of perfume. I flashed it at Dimitri. "She just needed to borrow this. Big date with the husband tonight."

I thrust the bottle at Sydney and nudged her. "Yeah. I-need all the help I can get. Keep him interested after all these years."

Dimitri smiled. "Sounds good."

Sydney laughed.

"Well, Rose, you should really be in bed."

Sydney smiled and turned her back to Dimitri. "Yes. I'll get going." Her gaze moved down to the sink behind me, and her smile became crooked. "Take care."

I nodded.

Dimitri led me back to bed, despite all my protests for a minute. I looked back at that sink. There were all the answers. My stomach churned.

"You need to rest. No more house guests. At least not tonight." He grabbed the ponytail holder on the bedside table and proceeded to pull my hair into a haphazard bun.

Watching his face, all strewn up in concentration, pulling my hair into that damned holder, so full of love, full of unrepentant, sweet, love for me, I crumbled. I cried. I wept. I sobbed. The anticipation, the fear, the confusion cracked and flowed. The dam burst. The lump in my throat throbbed.

He simply folded his arms around me, bewildered, puzzled. "Hey, hey. Was it too tight?"

I hiccupped and pulled away from him. I was so scared. So, so scared. And I couldn't tell him. My face was wet with tears, salty and still, frozen with fear, paralysed by his love. I cupped his face and smiled a watery smile. "It's perfect. You're perfect. I love you. I love you so much." The tears started again.

He smiled, all bewildered and pushed the hair back from my face, hugging me again, hugging me tight. "And I love you. Has there ever been a doubt?"

I secured my arms tight around his neck and hugged him tighter, letting the tears run free. I was so ashamed. I was horrible. How could I tell him? How could I tell him I was so scared of a possibility, a joyful beautiful possibility? My thoughts were so damn selfish. How could I tell him? He would hate me.

He pulled away and wiped my tears away. "You're okay, right?"

"Yeah. Just a little tired. And emotional." I wordlessly pulled him back to me. And he didn't pull away, not again. He held me for what felt like hours, rocking me back and forth, never saying a word. When I finally fell asleep in his arms, he lay me back, and laid down next to me. He never let go of me.

When midnight rolled around, we were still in bed, fully clothed and folded in each other's arms. I looked up at him, I observed the lines of his face, his beautiful soul illuminated in the blue, true moonlight. I smiled. I ran my lips across his forehead, touched them to his lips. I kissed the pulsing, beating pulse of his neck.

My heart could have flown away. Because in that one moment, I wasn't scared. He had enough courage, enough love for both of us. I didn't need all the answers. Just a little light, a little sun, and he was that light, that sun. He would show me out of the shadows, and show me the beauty, the light. Like he always did. He would die before ever letting go of my hand. It all came back to him. It always came back to Dimitri.

So, I entangled myself from him, and headed to the bathroom. I opened that sink cupboard, took a deep breath, and looked at that fate stick.

And there was that bright blue negative sign.

A negative sign.

Good news, wasn't it? But then…why did I suddenly feel so sad? I sank down to the floor and laid that stick down next to me. A tear escaped the corner of me eye. And that was that.

**Before I get lots of questions, I thought I would explain my reasoning for heading in such a direction with this story. I feel like more often than not, young teenage pregnancies are romanticised in fanfiction stories. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with it. Bringing a child into this world is an incredible, beautiful, miraculous thing. And women are so lucky to be a part of that. We create life. But what I feel that what these stories fail to recognise, is the flip side of all the joy and happiness. Fear. Sadness. Worry. That first reaction. It isn't always positive, not for all women. **

**And pregnancy at a young age? It is difficult, it is terrifying. Doesn't mean it can't be done. But I felt that this was a little more natural in terms of a reaction, considering where Rose is at in her life. She'd only be in her early, early 20's. **

**Secondly, dhampir's aren't able to become pregnant! It's a fact the series has maintained so far, and one that I have maintained. Sydney and Adrian could have a child. Rose and Dimitri can't. I might do an adoption story, but that's one of the only possible ways something like that could happen. **


	23. These Arms of Mine: Otis Redding

**A friends with benefits-style one shot. Discretion is advised. I keep it as clean as I can. **

"Rules, we need rules."

"Can't we discuss this after?"

I looked down at my barely clad body and nodded. Then, I launched myself at him.

It was incredible. Admittedly, the best night I had possibly ever had. I could have sworn that the glow and feelings reverberated for hours afterward.

I didn't say a word to him after we finished. I pulled the sheets up over my body and turned to pull my shirt on. That was the first night.

* * *

His name was Dimitri. We established ground rules from the next meet up onward. No feelings. No spooning. No crying. No jealously. No possessiveness. No anger. And minimal kissing.

The next week or so was like living in heaven on Earth. We did it everywhere. Cars. Parking lots. My office desk. The carpet behind the couch. The dresser. A chair.

"Take your clothes off. Now."

"You aren't even here yet."

"Just do it. Be there in five."

He was yawning when I began unbuttoning my blouse. "I am so tired though. And I think you scratched my back last time."

I took everything off. "Still sleepy?"

His eyes widened. And he smiled.

* * *

"Two more minutes."

Dimitri pulled back. "You said that ten minutes ago!"

I grabbed at his face. "This episode is almost finished. I promise."

He glanced at his watch. "Dude, I literally have 20 minutes before I have to leave."

I turned. "Did you just call me, "dude"?"

"You prefer "honey"?"

I shivered. "Ick. "Dude" it is".

The show ended, and it ended with a bang. _One of the characters died. Finally!_ I jumped up off the coach and into Dimitri's arms. And I kissed him on the cheek. He took my glasses off and carried me away.

"Oh! Wait! Dude! I didn't see the promo!"

* * *

And then, of course, things stalled when it was finally getting good. The complication arrived. His mother.

"You just have to meet her!"

"No! No parents!" I pulled my singlet on and stood up.

"That was never part of the deal," he pointed out. I turned. "Where is my underwear?"

"That's not an answer." I sighed. He was smiling, the smug bastard.

"Listen carefully, alright buddy?" I didn't know when I started the chest jabbing. But I had. "Read my lips: I am about to give you a never-in-your-lifetime-will-I-meet-your-mother speech."

He grabbed my waist, and laid me down.

"No." I shook my head.

Stronger. "No."

He rolled me over, and off the bed.

* * *

I blew strands of my bangs out of my eyes. I didn't know how he did it. Okay, fine, I knew exactly how he had done it. He got me to go to dinner with his mother, and here I was, at some crummy restaurant chowing down on what appeared to be rabbit food. I knew portion control was a thing, but did they really have to be bastards about the quantity of tiramasu they gave? I had to pay ten dollars for a spoonful of tiramasu. This was bullshit. Dimitri was super dead.

When he finally arrived with the parental figure in tow, I nearly forgot my anger. Nearly. The man looked…good. He had cleaned up. And he cleaned up well. I nearly whistled. Nearly.

I smoothed down my cocktail dress and almost tripped over my heels when I stood up. These damn things. Sydney had promised me it was a best ensemble. Why was it so damn uncomfortable then?

I sipped my drink. I ate slowly. I did everything Dimitri had instructed me to do. All for a little slice of heaven in the evening. I know. Whore.

Afterword, we exchanged a word.

"Yours?"

I shoved him up against the door of my bedroom and tore his shirt of. Damned shame, considering it was the best thing I had ever seen on him, period. He kissed me everywhere but on my lips. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, but what the hell? She was totally right. Less intimate, less commitment.

We lay next to each other afterward, our faces inches away one another. The proximity should have freaked me out. But it didn't.

"Are you wearing perfume?"

I froze.

"Er, just a little. You told me to impress your mother."

He smiled. Lord, it was a good smile. No, stop it Rose. "I know. You were wearing heels."

"Hey! I wear heels, and make-up, and-"

All my thoughts promptly evaporated when he kissed the tattooed sparrow on my shoulder blade. He moved my hair back from my face. He kissed me behind my ear. My blood boiled.

"Should I kiss your tattoo too?"

"Do you really want to go there?"

I smiled and pulled him toward me.

It was perfect. Intimacy without any strings. Casual sex. We had our jobs, our friends, and our lives. Separate. And blissful.

* * *

"I've never been to your place," I said one evening. I didn't know how or why I had agreed to it, since we were clearly violating the rules we had placed down, but I was cooking dinner.

He rolled up his sleeves and stirred the steaming pot.

"Oh, it's nothing special."

"I wanna see it."

"Er…sure?"

"Next time we do it, it's at your apartment."

"I hate those shorts."

I glanced down, and cocked my head to the side. "Do you really?"

His hands closed around my waist. "Absolutely."

* * *

He lied. About the apartment. It was something very special. The man was loaded. His apartment overlooked what looked like the entire city. It was also two sizes bigger than my apartment.

"If you live like this, then why do you dress like you're homeless?"

He chuckled. "I feel no need to flaunt my status or money."

"So, you're a cheapskate."

He nodded. "Pretty much."

"What do you do anyway?"

"Does this violate our rules?" He answered anyway. "I'm a lawyer."

I froze. And then I turned. "Me too."

He tucked his hands into his pockets. "I know."

I narrowed my eyes. "How?"

"I heard you on the phone once." He stepped closer and pulled a button of a blouse open. "Are we done with the interrogation?"

I smiled up at him. "Not nearly finished, counsellor."

* * *

"Don't forget the peanut butter!"

"Okay, okay."

Lord, he had a good behind.

I propped myself up onto my elbows. "Finally! The hair on my legs grew back in the time you took to make it back."

He paused. And grimaced. "Ew."

"If there's dog hair in your ice cream, I am literally going to kill you. It's everywhere!"

"Who said we were going to eat it?"

* * *

My eyes were barely open when I finally managed to swing the door open. I rubbed my eyes and blinked. Twice.

"Dimitri?"

I didn't get much more out. Because he kissed me. I tasted it before I smelt it.

I pushed him away a little. "You're drunk." I was sure of it. I had never tasted it on his breath before. Dimitri didn't drink.

"My ex-fiancée is getting married to my best friend." He laughed. "And they have been doing it for years. Basically the whole time we were together. So, I am, quite literally, the dumbest guy of the century."

"Oh, Dimitri."

"Look, will you just sleep with me tonight? Just do me this one thing. I won't demand it again, unless you want it."

I crossed my arms. "Dimitri, I don't think this is the right-"

He slowly rummaged through his pockets and finally produced a little packet. "I have a cupcake."

"Red velvet?"

"Yes."

I dropped my robe. I gave him all the love he needed. And we lay together after. I held him, telling him that tonight was the one exception. I even let him kiss me on the lips. And it felt good.

* * *

He screamed a little when he opened the door for me. And then he laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

"What?" I walked in.

He clearly didn't appreciate my Frankenstein costume as much as everyone had at the party.

"Aren't women normally dressed up as princesses or bunnies for Halloween?"

I pulled my wig off. "And have men feel their asses up all night for dressing like sluts? Please. It's too soft."

"And soft isn't you."

I threw my arms around him. "There you go. You are finally working out the inner psyche of Rose Hathaway."

He leaned down and kissed my shoulder blade. "You seriously didn't have time to change before you came over?"

"You were all, "Get here. And get here now." So I came! You wouldn't come to me!"

"Seriously? If we get caught having sex in public again, we're getting arrested."

"Well, what's the point in us being lawyers if we can't bail ourselves out?"

"True, Ms Hathaway." He groaned. "God…I don't know why…but the costume is sort of doing it for me."

"You have a sick, sick mind, my Russian friend."

* * *

I guess the first clue should have been when he kissed my shoulder. Or when he called me at three in the morning, when his dog ran away. Either way, I should have seen it coming.

It was true what people said. Friends with benefits never worked out. Eventually, one or the other would end up wanting a relationship. In this situation, it had been him.

"Don't tell me that there isn't any part of you that wants this for real?"

I couldn't look at him. My response was cold and simple. "No, there isn't."

"How can you say that?"

I turned.

"I'm not that girl. I told you that from the beginning. I am not the girl who meets your parents, and holds your hand at family events. That is not me! I am never going to be that person! Do you hear me?"

"I hear you."

So he left. I hadn't heard from him in months. At first, I thought I was past it. I tried to move past it. But for some reason, he always made his way back into my thoughts. It felt like…it felt like my heart wasn't slowly being eaten away. I felt like there was less of me, each day. I was disappearing.

So I couldn't exactly say how what happened ended up happening. One minute, I was driving home to my apartment. The next thing I knew, I was standing outside his door, soaked from head to toe, in that damned pantsuit from work.

He opened the door. The silence felt as though it could have cut glass. He didn't say a word. But I did. Three little words.

"I love you."

And then he reached out, grabbed me around the waist, and kissed me, full on the lips.

I lost track of how many times he kissed me that night. My lips were numb, bruised, bleeding by the end of it. The rain pattered against the glass windows, and the moon shone bright through the sheer, cream curtains. He dimmed the lights, and he made love to me for the first time.

It was love. This was love. It wasn't sex. There was a difference. I could feel it in the way he kissed me, in the way he held me afterward. The way he kissed my forehead, and murmured my name over and over, like a frenzied prayer.

He made waffles in the morning, and arranged it nicely on a little platter. Flowers, orange juice, syrup…

When he leaned down to kiss me, I held on a little longer. And then, I grabbed the flowers and threw it behind me.

"First thing you need to know about me: I hate flowers."

**Review?**


	24. I Was Made To Love Her: Stevie Wonder

**SPOILERS FOR THE RUBY CIRCLE. I REPEAT: SPOILERS FOR THE RUBY CIRCLE. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ IT, ABORT, ABORT. You have been warned. MAJOR PLOT SPOILERS. **

**In honour of Valentine's Day tomorrow, I thought I'd write a Valentine's Day style one-shot, with some special guests.**

"Can I remove the blindfold now?"

"No. Give me a few more moments."

I squeezed his hand but didn't pull away at the blindfold.

"Alright, I'm taking it off, I don't care what you say."

"Take it off."

The silk scarf slipped away and revealed his surprise. He had been right to keep me in the dark. This was sweet, kind, and quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever done for me. Every piece of furniture was pushed back up to the walls, and draped in golden sheets. Lanterns hung from the curtains and walls, and candles filled every empty space in between. The space in the middle was occupied by a patchwork quilt decorated with candles, flowers, a small platter of food and some wine. I swallowed.

"It's beautiful." I leaned up onto my toes and kissed him, deeply, happily. His eyes shone in the candlelight when I pulled back, full of happiness and love. He smiled. A smile just reserved just for me. Our lives were often so hectic that we barely got a moment to ourselves. This was one of those moments.

He led me to the quilt, and plied me with food, flowers, and chocolates.

"I know you like to eat like a baby elephant, but are you seriously still hungry?"

I lightly punched him. "Hey!"

He chuckled. "Wine?"

"No, thank you."

"Here's some papaya. I know it's your favourite. I even sprinkled it with lemon juice."

"Oh. Sweet. I'll eat it later. Not really hungry."

"You just said you were."

"I lied. I'm not."

"Roza, I know when you're lying. You're not lying. Just have a little piece."

He waved a piece in front of me.

"No. I don't want it."

It inched closer, and closer, until I slapped his hand away and it went sliding across the floor. My laboured breathing filled the silence.

"I'm pregnant!"

He stared.

"I'm pregnant. And I can't eat papaya."

That hadn't been how I wanted to break the news, but it was out there before I could stop it. He was face was unreadable. Frozen. And then the shock broke, and he immediately embraced me. A strangled cry escaped his lips.

"The impossible happened. You're pregnant."

He pulled away, smiling, and cupped my face. "Are you happy?"

I looked up, and smiled. His hands went to my belly, his eyes full of wonder.

"Of course I am." I kissed him. "Things are going to change, is all. I'm going to have to leave Lissa, and cut down on my hours…but I wouldn't have it any other way. If it means having this child, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

It was true. We were going to be a family. We would have to move away from Court, and raise this child. We would still work there, but the distance was essential. It also meant I couldn't be Lissa's full time guardian, but I'd take something rather than nothing. I loved him more than life, and soon enough, there would more to love in my life.

He had no words. He kissed me, and then carefully laid me back down onto the quilt. My heart swelled with happiness.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Roza."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Dimitri."

* * *

"Is Declan sleeping?"

"Yes, yes."

"Did he have supper?"

"Yes."

"Did you check his diaper?"

"Sage! Just follow me. Trust me. I did everything." I swallowed, and clasped his outstretched hand. He led me down the stairs, keeping a steady hand over my closed eyes.

"I swear I'm not peeking."

"I trust you, Sage."

"Then why the hand?"

"I also don't trust you."

"You know, taking a 7 months pregnant lady down a flight of stairs with her eyes closed is probably the worst thing you could possibly do."

"Noted. But I think it really comes down to whether you trust me. Do you trust me?"

The words came easily to my lips. "Of course."

"Well then, pipe down and keep holding me hand."

"Are we there yet?" I could smell food. Tomatoes, basil…pasta?

"Open."

My eyes clicked open. And then I pulled him close, and kissed him. When we broke apart, I still kept my arms around him.

"How did you do this? "When did you do this?" I laughed.

He gestured behind me. Jill and Eddie leaned out of one of the windows, peering down at us and smiling. Declan had woken, and was in Jill's arms. "I had help."

"It's perfect." With Eddie and Jill's help, Adrian had managed to transform our drabby backyard into our own little Italy. Fairy lights were draped around the trees and onto some of the smaller plants. Lanterns hung from hooks, dangling down from the terrace ceiling. It was already landscaped to mirror Italian architecture, but they had somehow made small changes. The painted walls looked brighter. The candles were yellow and flickering. Music streamed from behind the trees. In the middle of all of this, there was a table, complete with what I had incorrectly guessed as pasta. It was pizza and…

"Fondue?"

Adrian smiled. "Of course. How could I forget fondue?"

"Italian, and sentimental."

Adrian spread his arms out proudly. "I live to impress my woman."

I chuckled, and pulled him back toward me for a well-deserved kiss. Dinner was delicious. And afterward, I slipped my heels off and we danced slowly to the music. Adrian held me as close as he possibly could, and swayed me, kissed me, kept me in his arms, safe and warm.

Tonight was a night of memories. Our first date with our fondue. The candles from that Red Dress night. Dancing in our suite at Court, worried scared about Jill.

When he revealed what he had for dessert, the kissing started all over again. Peppermint cupcakes. That day, those memories… seemed like it was a lifetime ago.

Flash forward 3 years, and I was married, a mom, and pregnant with number 2. I could have never imagined this life back then. Married to a vampire, mother to another's child, and studying what I loved. It was better than anything I had conjured.

"The baby's kicking."

Adrian dropped my hands and kneeled in front of my burgeoning belly. His fingers closed around my belly, and he smiled. Then he kissed it, and kissed me.

"I love you. Happy Valentine's Day, Sage."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Adrian."

* * *

I pulled away from the window, and smiled down at Declan. He yawned, and leaned back into my embrace. Eddie closed the window, and moved away, following me to the other end of the room. I set Declan down into his crib, and switched the mobile on. Eddie slipped his hands around my waist as we both peered into the crib, watching his eyelids close, his little hands slacken. He was so small. But growing bigger every day.

"You're such a big boy."

Declan was asleep again fast enough, and we were out before he could cry again. Eddie caught my hand in the hallway. I turned.

"What is it?"

He smiled. "Adrian isn't the only one who can manage a surprise around here."

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

"What did you do?"

He wordlessly dragged me past Daniella's room, and into the study. Eddie, it seemed, had set up a little picnic for us. Pasta and tiramisu. Candlelight. Music. It was perfect. Just like him.

And when I kissed him, everything else melted away. The details never mattered. We were here now. And I loved him.

I leaned my forehead against his, keeping him close.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jill."

* * *

"Rose called. She said she has some news for us."

His phone rang. My heart nearly failed.

"Yes? Sure…I'll see you tomorrow then."

I buried my head in my hands. "You think she has any idea?"

"Not a clue."

Abraham Mazur dropped his towel and turned the lights off. "Happy Valentine's Day, Janine."

I smiled through the darkness. "Happy Valentine's Day."


	25. L-O-V-E: Nat King Cole

**SPOILERS FOR THE RUBY CIRCLE. I REPEAT: SPOILERS FOR THE RUBY CIRCLE. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ IT, ABORT, ABORT. You have been warned. MAJOR PLOT SPOILERS.**

Sydney and Adrian's fireplace was burning away merrily by the time we retired.

Dimitri pulled the cover over us as I sighed. "Everyone seemed happy."

"Of course they were. I'd be happier once you set a date…" I shot him a look. "…but I'll count my blessings. Baby steps."

I laid my head against Dimitri's chest and smiled. "The baby has gotten super big."

"I know. Makes me wonder when we'll have one of our own."

I pinched him.

"Right. Baby steps."

"Don't get me wrong. I do want kids…it's just that…we need to make plans."

He glanced down at me. "And we will. But this could be our miracle. If it's possible…then I don't want to throw it away."

I looked up at him. "Neither do I."

"Let's just get married first."

I kissed his chest. "Done."

* * *

"Did your family really have to break out the vodka last night?"

Dimitri smiled down at me. He was already dressed and had come to wake me. The rocket fuel from last night had left my head pounding. Never again, I always promised. But here I was again.

"Where's my babies?"

"One of them is asleep, and the other…"

"Momma, Momma, Mooooooooma!" A voice called, her little footsteps pattering against the timber floors. My head was about two seconds from exploding, the sound was so loud. She was through the door and on the bed in a flash, all bouncy curls and big smiles.

She peered up at me curiously. "Momma. Gammy says it's time to get up."

I touched her nose. "Gammy's right. It's too late to be sleeping. Or shouting."

"What?"

I blinked. "Nothing. You head down stairs, I'm right behind you." I kissed her, and gave her a small push.

Dimitri smiled after her, the little plush toy she had left behind in his hands.

"She's gotten so big."

"So have I."

He gave me an incredulous look. "You? Big? Never?"

I poked my tongue out at him. "Liar."

* * *

I flew down the stairs and fastened my earrings on. I could already smell the scent of Adrian's cologne, and those damn waffles he always made.

"Hmmm. Smells good." I inspected the table's contents and smiled. Adrian was almost always the one who sorted out breakfast. The baby was sitting in his high chair, silent for a change. I kissed him carefully on the head, and trailed my fingertips along his wispy blonde hair. Adrian appeared behind me, and slipped his arms around my waist.

I leaned up and kissed him briefly on the lips. "My classes will go late today, so don't wait for me tonight."

Adrian frowned. "It's not family dinner without you, Sage."

I made a face. "You don't think I know this? I'll be home as soon as possible."

"Where are the rugrats?"

"Brushing their teeth." Adrian held a cup up to me, and I smiled. I automatically reached for my daily cup of coffee, and sighed when the liquid hit my mouth. Things were about to get hectic in the Ivashkov household.

And soon enough, the thunderous thuds of feet sounded from the living room, and two children emerged.

"Mom, I need permission for hockey practice. Can you please call the coach?"

"Yes. Hello. Good morning. How are you?" My eldest flushed, and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mom. Good morning."

I washed my cup out and headed over to the fridge. Bread, lettuce, tomato, muesli, butter…

"No problem. I'll give him a call during my break. Make sure you pick up your sister from after school daycare around 5 alright? Dad will pick you guys up from the front gates."

"Got it."

I turned to my little girl. "You have your ballet shoes?"

"Yes, Mom."

She handed a hair tie to me. I placed my butter knife down, and went about plaiting her hair.

"Done. Eat some cereal, please. And some fruit."

Adrian rushed out of the kitchen. "Got to get ready." He pumped up a fist. "Remember, out at 8:30, please."

"Right on!" Everybody responded in chorus.

I zipped up the last lunchbox bag and dusted my pants off. "Lunches are packed. Please eat everything. No leftovers, please."

"Yes, Mom."

I ran to the table and quickly chowed down on a piece of toast. "Hmmm. Did you do something different to your hair?"

I reached out, but was swatted away. "No. Yes. Just a little hair gel, Ma."

I snorted. "Your father's idea, I suppose?"

"The guy's got style. You gotta admit that."

"And your Mom?"

"You're cool and collected. Definitely trumps style."

I narrowed my eyes. "Good answer." I briefly kissed his head, and then brushed away my daughter's bangs.

And then of course, the baby started to cry. Of course. How could I forget about my baby? Changed, fed, and cuddled, he was ready to go by the time Adrian had finished getting ready.

"Alright troops. Form an orderly line and let's march."

The baby leaned against my chest and yawned. I grabbed the lunches and headed for the door.

"Here you go." Lunch, kiss, go.

"And here you are." Lunch, kiss, go.

"And you." I had reached Adrian. His kiss was a little longer, and more languid. "I swear, it's like train station here in the morning."

"Gotta love it, though right?"

I kissed him again. "I'll see you in the evening."

I called after the kids. "Stay safe. Love you!"

"Bye Mom!"

The baby cried out and laughed. I kissed him, and shut the door, smiling.

* * *

Dimitri looked up from his newspaper when I came rushing into the kitchen, a child on one hip and another in hand. He stood up, and reached for one of them.

"Thank you." I blew my bangs out of my face, and reached the coffee machine. It was life support at this stage. Sleepless nights were getting to me.

"What time do you have to be out?"

"My shift starts at 10."

"Great. You can drop the kids at day care."

"Momma. Momma."

I smiled down at my youngest. "Yes, my sweet. What is it?" She gurgled something, nothing, back, and then laughed. I kissed her. "Me too." Despite all the sleep deprivation, I wouldn't have given up any of it for the world.

I walked to the table and set her down into one of the high chairs. "She's been washed, changed, and fed."

Dimitri swung my baby boy around on his hip. "So has this guy. He's gotten so big. Say hi to Momma. Can you say hi to Momma?"

"He's getting there. Aren't you, bud?" I kissed him, considered, and then kissed Dimitri too.

"Good morning."

He smiled. "Good morning, Roza."

"Things will slow down soon, won't they?"

"I certainly hope so. When was the last time we were actually alone?"

I paused. And then I swallowed. "We'll have a moment together…soon."

"I hope so too."

"No, really, we will."

"What?"

"Because either I just peed myself…or my water just broke."

Dimitri's eyes widened.


	26. Still Crazy After All These Years: PS

**Dedicated to my reviewers, especially hiseask17. Where are you? I miss your reviews.**

I buried my head in my hands. It was him. It had to be. I would have recognised him anywhere. Then…why was I hiding? His cologne nearly bowled me over. I clenched the table cloth. The memories were so fresh. I remembered a dark room. _The moon shining through the curtains. A girl with brown hair, and a boy with dark, liquid eyes. Dark lipstick. Cologne. Bare skin._

I swallowed, and then turned back to Sydney. I couldn't face him. So, I hid myself behind my lemon tart.

"Alright, he's gone." Sydney passed me a napkin. I grimaced and wiped away at the lemon cream on my chin.

"Who was that?"

Simple. The lump in my throat throbbed. I threw the napkin down. "Dimitri."

* * *

Before I was a principal, before there was Ms Hathaway, there had been Rose Hathaway, student of the Moscow State University. I was a fumbling first year from abroad, lost, and unable to understand 95 percent of what people said to me. My roommate was so completely different...it was almost comical.

Viktoria was confident, outgoing, and a true university student. And of course, like it always happened in those wretched coming-of-age films with the two oddly matched best friends, she took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. I refused to change my appearance for anybody, so she worked around that. She dragged me to parties, tea parties, and club meetings. It was at one of her society meets that I first saw him.

He was standing with a group of friends on the other side of the room. He was laughing, a drink in one hand. I smiled. And in that moment, our eyes locked briefly. I was sure. A quick flash of amused, brown eyes. And then it was gone. Viktoria dragged me away, and he disappeared into a crowd. I was sure I would never see him again.

The next day, there was a thumping at our door. Slightly hung over, and irritated with Viktoria's grumbling, I stumbled to the door, unkempt and sleepy, and threw the door open. And then I ran. I couldn't breathe. I had also lost the ability to swallow. _Dimitri._ I tested my breath, and then cringed. _Lord._

"Who are you looking for?"

Dimitri was here for me, it turned out. He kept behind the door while I changed. "My sister told me you needed some help with the language."

I threw a pillow at a sleeping Viktoria. _Viktoria _had failed to mention my Russian lessons to me. Or introduce me to my teacher.

We started almost immediately. He was a good teacher, it turned out. And I was a quick learner. Within a few weeks, I was speaking back fairly fluently. My classes became easier. It was like everything had fallen into place.

There was also a part of me that took sick guilty pleasure in his presence. He was so kind, and sweet, and loving. He was funny, and warm, and calmly worked with me when I messed up. I could have swam in those eyes, they were so warm.

One afternoon, while practicing my writing, I felt Dimitri's eyes on me. I glanced up. "What is it?"

He coughed, and turned away. "Er…nice dress."

I followed his gaze. My heart sank. I blinked back tears. My party dress for Saturday was hanging on the back of the door. "Oh. Yeah. Viktoria and I are going to the party on Saturday."

Dimitri frowned. "Alone?"

"Well, I am. But, she's not. I'll be there by myself, basically." I gave a harsh laugh, and twirled my pencil.

Dimitri shrugged, and fidgeted with my rubber. "Well, I'm not going with anyone. We can hang out. You won't be alone. I won't be alone."

I looked up from my notes. And I smiled.

I took special care with my hair for the party. I finally managed to pull my short hair back into a French twist, and applied some darker lipstick. When we arrived at the party, I drew a stare or two, which never happened. Dimitri was nowhere in sight, which made my heart sink a little. We were just supposed to hang out…but still. Viktoria was swept away by some suitor almost immediately, so I moved away from the throng, and went out to the bridge.

The stars were out, and the moon was bright.

And then, there was a hand on my shoulder. I squeezed my eyes shut, and turned around. It was him.

We danced on that damned bridge. There was little music, but there was his lips, his face, and the way his eyes smouldered when he looked down at me. When he walked me back to my dorm, my heart was in my throat. But I left that door open. And he followed. _The moonlight filtered through our thin curtains. We stared at one another from opposite ends of the room. I reached up, and removed the pin from my hair. Our eyes met._ And then…

* * *

I blinked, and my eyes dropped down to the lemon tart.

Sydney's eyes were round. "Wow."

I played with my fork.

"Yeah."

"Wait, did you say Viktoria Belikov?"

* * *

I couldn't bury him after I had dug him up from under everything; from the deep recesses of my heart. I remembered his eyes. _His warmth. His laugh_. So, I went home and rummaged through all my belongings. And I found that blue dress, that blue dress from a lifetime ago; a dress a young girl had worn to a party on a moonlit evening, her lips dark, her heart in her throat.

I wore the dress for the first time in years. The silk criss-crosses on my back were tighter, but it was as blue as it had always been. Viktoria's party was the only place I would have worn it. I pulled my hair into a French twist, and applied some dark lipstick. The woman who stared back from the mirror was a little older, a little wiser, a little heartbroken. But for a moment, the age left her face, and she was a young girl with trembling hands and rouge lips. I blinked, pressed my lips together, and then ran to the party.

Viktoria hadn't expected me, so it was a huge hug, and an immediate, "Where have you been all these years?" for me when she opened the door.

Ten minutes later, I was a nervous wreck. My confidence flew out the window. This was a horrible idea. Did I really expect him to turn up? Did I really expect him to wait for me all these years?

Well, at least I had figured out that much. I knew he hadn't waited for me. Sydney had told me as much. He had been a married man for 13 years, until he lost his wife to an accident a year ago. He had a child. He had had love.

And then, there was me. He would have forgotten about me and that night under the stars. He had moved on.

And then, _I looked up, and met a pair of brown eyes. I swallowed. And then, those eyes were gone. No…they were heading to me. _

_He broke away from his group, strode over to me, and gathered me in his arms. And then, amazingly, we were kissing. _

A trumpet blew loud, and I broke out of my reverie. No Dimitri. No kissing. I glanced around. He wasn't there. The dream had been too real. I had missed my chance all those years ago. The past couldn't be undone. Why, why had I dug it up again? I ran out of the room, my eyes brimming away with fresh tears.

While I blubbered away on the balcony, a hand eventually offered me a handkerchief over my shoulder. I buried my nose in it, and blew.

"Thank-thank-you." God. Now hiccupping. What next? "I-I'm okay now."

I turned to the stranger. I didn't get a word out before he cupped my face, and kissed me so fiercely, the air left my body. My automatic response was to push him away. But then, my arms became slack, and I kissed him back.

And then he kissed me again. And again. And again.

I leaned my forehead against his, and kept his face cupped in my trembling hands. He had a few greys, but he was still Dimitri. Still warm, and loving, and everything in between.

"Why did you leave? Why did you leave?" He said it repeatedly, in between all the kisses, all the tears. That, and, "It's you, it's you, it's you." It was agonising. The pain in his voice tore me to shreds.

I cried. "Oh god. I had to. My family needed me. It was my last day and I couldn't tell you." The tears trickled down my face. "It was so selfish…but I wanted that day with you. Even if it meant being heartbroken after."

His eyes shimmered. "I don't regret it. What I do regret was not kissing you that first day I saw you, across the room at the society meeting."

I coughed. "With my glasses, and horrible hair-"

He shook his head. "None of that mattered. It never mattered. I saw you, and I saw truth. I saw love. I saw beauty. And I should have kissed you."

"I should have said something. I also should have told you our time was my first time, and-"

Dimitri pulled away. "What?"

I shrank a little. And then, I laughed nervously. "Er…yeah."

He smiled good naturedly. "I'm joking. Of course I knew."

I punched his arm. "Hey!"

He chuckled, and brought his lips down to mine. The moonlight was full, and beautiful. And somewhere, some place, the girl with the rouge lips, and teenage ardour was dancing with a boy on a moonlit bridge in Russia.

**Love transcends time. **


	27. Now or Never: Billie Holiday

**Dedicated to the lovely, VAGypsy (who went on a crazy reviewing spree. Thank you for all your wonderful comments!) and all my other lovely reviewers. Love to you all. **

"Late night?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

I had a feeling I had seen him around. And…he was so _bloody hot_. I tried to control my breathing, so I didn't come off as a spaz, but I couldn't help it. His name started with 'D' or something. _God_, today had to be the day I hadn't washed my hair.

"Which floor?" His fingers hovered over the elevator buttons.

"Ground."

The whole thing unfolded like it did in one of those romantic comedies I condemned. The lights flickered, and the elevator stuttered to a stop.

We glanced at each other, and then, "Fuck, you gotta be kidding me!" I jabbed away at the buttons, to no avail. To make matters worse, when we tried the assistance button, no answer came.

He grimaced. "I think we're the only ones left in the building."

I whipped around. "What?"

He started shrugging his jacket off. _Whoa._ I took a few steps back. "What are you doing?"

He gave me a confused look, and then chuckled. "I'm not that kind of guy. We're going to be in here a while, is all. Probably till morning."

I groaned. No, no way. Seriously. Why didn't I wash my hair this morning? Of all the days!

"Somewhere to be in the morning?"

I narrowed my eyes, and crossed my arms. "Haha. Very funny. At least I'll be early for work once."

"Not going to attempt the crack-open-the-air-vent trick they always do in American movies?"

"If you wanna try, sure. I always thought that move was stupid and pointless. What do we do after we get past the vent, and hopefully pry the doors open? We'll be locked in, either way."

I slid down onto the floor and pulled my heels off. "And since this going to be a long night…my name is Rose."

He slipped down to the floor too, managing to make it look graceful, despite his height. "Dimitri."

* * *

He was right. We were, quite literally, the last people left in the building. Of course we were. 12:00 in the morning. Even the security guards had headed home. I suppose though, all in all, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. I could have been stuck in the elevator with an ex-boyfriend, or an asthmatic kid.

When the lights were shut off, I rummaged through my bag and triumphantly produced a glow in the dark pack of stars, Sydney's son, had given me. We stuck them on the wall we leaned against, and stared up at them for a few minutes before moving on to the pressing matter: Food.

Between the two of us, we managed to scrounge together some food. I had half a sandwich, and an orange juice left from lunch. He added an apple, and a box of mints to the mix. Once we finished up "dinner," we sat next to each other and played a round of penny can. Well, penny bottle.

It was…better. The atmosphere was a little less tense. We had broken the ice. He even managed a foot rub, which I, as a woman in heels all day, duly appreciated.

"You're good." I suppressed a moan.

"Not bad, I suppose." His lithe fingers rubbed away at my feet in circles.

I rolled my eyes. "Please. Is there anything you're not good at?"

He glanced down at me with amused eyes, and smiled. "Lots."

I blushed, and averted my gaze. "Well, since you have this in the bag, how about we play another game."

He whistled, and leaned his head against the wall behind us. "Sure."

"20 questions."

"No strip poker?" He produced a pack of a cards, seemingly out of thin air.

"And give a free show for the security guards tomorrow? No, thank you, Comrade."

He hesitated briefly. "Sounds good."

"Hey!"

He chuckled. "20 questions, it is."

"Okay, I'll start. What's your favourite colour?"

He cringed. "Seriously?"

I threw my arms up. I almost smiled. _Maybe_ there was another reason I asked. "I thought I'd start easy!"

"One rule: Don't go easy, just play your normal game."

I almost frowned. Instead, I tried for a shrug. "Okay, what are you most scared of?"

The answer was simple. "Losing someone I love."

"Seriously? Birds? Frogs? Spiders? Heights? Guns? None of those?"

He shook his head.

"Whoa. Deep. Um, you're next."

He twirled the uneaten apple in his hands. "What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever done?"

I laughed. "It happened during a cooking class with my friend a few years ago. I had lost the button to my skirt, so the only thing holding the thing up was my zipper. Unfortunately, I had pulled down the zipper before heading into class. So, when I was standing at the sink, dutifully washing my hands, I felt something slip."

A smile started to form on his lips. "I assumed it was my stockings, so I pulled that up. A few seconds later, I felt something slip again, but didn't bother checking. It couldn't be my stockings again, after all. And then I heard a loud, "Rose!" My friend was standing there, shell shocked, watching me at the sink, with my skirt around my ankles."

He laughed outright. I continued. "Wonderful day for me. Luckily, she was the only one who saw."

I fired out the next one. "Favourite movie?"

"Doctor Zhivago."

"Favourite novel?"

Easy. "On the Road, Jack Kerouac."

"Favourite band?"

"Queen."

"What are your favourite genres of music?"

"Rock, indie rock, folk, jazz, blues, and a little classical."

"Classical?"

I elbowed him. "Hey! Not your question!"

He held his hands up. "Shoot."

I frowned. "Favourite memory?"

"Sledding on the Neva."

"Favourite classical composer?"

I groaned happily. "Chopin. Hands down."

"I would have guessed Tchaikovsky."

"Why does everyone guess that?" I grabbed his arm. He was distracting me. "Anyway! Back to it. What question are we up to?"

* * *

The rest of the evening was blissful and continued on much like the game. I discovered a lot about him. He loved spring. He loved reading western novels on rainy days. He dreamed of one day visiting India. He liked Russian winters, because it reminded him of snow days and sledding.

Those were the easy answers. Around the 15-20 mark, the questions got a little more intense. I didn't know how he done it, but I found myself hanging on his every word.

"Last one, Comrade." I bound my hair up into a bun, and wiped away at the perspiration gathered around my neck.

"Do you even know the meaning of that word?"

"Duh. And go hard with the question."

He stared for a few moments, a half smile frozen on his lips, and then he leaned down. I flinched. His fingers brushed away an escaped strand of hair from my face. "What would you do to keep out of unsuspecting men's arms?"

I laughed. "Funny you mention that. My friends and I made a pact when we were younger. No sleeping with a guy until you knew his favourite colour or his mother's maiden name. Seemed silly at the time, and it mostly just failed. But still, we hoped it would work."

He blinked. I anxiously touched my face. "What is it? Is there something on my face?"

"Nothing."

In a rare moment of human randomness, he asked me to waltz. He stood up, and silently offered me his hand. I stared. What the hell?

But amazingly, there we were, dancing to an old Billie Holiday song. Her voice blared loud and clear, through the elevator and up through the vents. He needed practice, he explained. Whatever. I didn't care why, I was just glad to be in his arms, close; hearing the thump-thump of his heart.

I swallowed. I was so terrified…and yet, I couldn't ignore what I saw before me. He leaned his head against mine. His eyes smouldered. His breathing had heightened. The universe, and all its signs, were yelling at me with its lustful slurs. To kiss him, to make love to him, to touch him._ Anything. _

I hadn't felt the electricity that had built up to this point, but, oh. Oh, did I feel it now. It could have lit the whole elevator on fire, it was that palpable. My next words were a whisper. "What's your favourite colour?"

He leaned back, and moved so close, his lips were a whisper away. I could see every line on his face, every shade of brown in his eyes, despite the poor lighting. Those eyes regarded me quietly, and with such warmth, that my heart beat wild. I closed my own.

"Brown."

His lips met mine, hungrier, and fiercer than anything I had expected. I grabbed his face, and pulled him closer, responding with much fervour, and just as much ferocity. When we finally pulled back, he kept close. We kissed, under those damned glowing stickers, like young teenagers in a bedroom alone.

"Belikov."

"What?"

"My mother's maiden name is Belikov."


	28. Cry To Me: Solomon Burke

"Hello? Are you kidding me? No. I'm done waiting for you and I'm done with your excuses. It's over."

I slammed the phone down, and tried to stem the flow of tears clouding my vision. The door opened, and promptly slammed. I swiped at my eyes, and turned, attempting a smile.

"Hey."

Dimitri dropped his keys into the pot, and then frowned. "You okay?"

"Um. Yeah."

He raised an eyebrow. "You said "yeah."

"Yeah? What about it?"

"You never say, "Yeah." It's always, "yes."

I rolled my eyes, and headed toward the kitchen. His footsteps padded after me. The aftershave was piled on particularly strong today. I raised my own eyebrows as I pulled ingredients for dinner out.

"Moving past my momentary grammatical lapse in judgement, what's with the aftershave? Hot date, Russian stud?"

He popped a blueberry into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. "More like lame date. She was sub-par. Barely up to my lofty height."

"Physically?"

"That too."

I tossed two potatoes at him. "Peel."

"Mmmm. Two years as roommates and the first thing to go are full sentences and please's."

He cleared his throat, but kept his eyes down on the potatoes. "So, you're avoiding my question."

I glanced down. My hands were shaking. "Was there one?"

"There was. But here's another: Who were you on the phone with?"

"Can I phone a friend?"

"Be serious."

"I am. Nobody."

"Didn't sound like nobody. Besides, why would you be on the phone with nobody?"

"Nice observation, Sherlock. How much do you get paid an hour? To be an asshat, I mean."

"Asshats charge 50 bucks an hour. How do you think I swing this hopping bachelor pad?"

I cringed. "Don't say hopping. It's too…young."

"Hip?"

"Oh, god."

"Who?"

"Who, what?"

"Rose!"

"Dimitri!"

He knew. "Adrian."

I dropped my knife. My fingers didn't move away fast enough, and caught the edge of the knife. Blood began to ooze from my fingertip.

"Shit." I sucked it.

Then Dimitri's hands were there. He took the finger in his hands, and examined it closely. His brown eyes were narrowed, his hand surprisingly warm. I blinked. My stomach flipped.

"It'll be fine." His hand fell away. I stowed my finger away. The counter, the vegetables blurred before my eyes. Suddenly, I felt faint.

"I've learned my lesson. Never ask dangerous questions whilst cooking."

I pulled a bar stool out, and buried my face in my hands. The pain my chest grew unbearable. The tears I held back pricked at my eyes. The sobbing was something neither of us had expected. But Dimitri came, wordlessly, enveloping me in his arms, and stroking my hair back, murmuring away in sweet, slow Russian.

"I tried. I tried to make it work, but no matter what I did…he always messed it up. He made mistakes he couldn't take back. Ones I couldn't forget."

"You're not going back to him, you hear me?"

I gulped. "I hear you."

* * *

"Here. Ice cream. Your favourite kind."

I accepted the bowl, and examined its contents. Ben and Jerry's. Two spoons.

"Huh. Do I usually eat with two spoons?"

"No, but two people do."

He removed one spoon, and licked the edges with childish abandon. I watched him, holding back a smile. He looked over. "What?"

"Nothing." Then, I proceeded to do the same to my own spoon.

"Have you got a job tomorrow?"

"Mmmmm. No. I'm still developing a few photos from the wedding last week."

"I'm free too. Wanna do something?"

"Do I want to do something? Yes, why not. What do you have in mind, big man?"

"Ice cream and video games."

"Hey. A plan I like. Let's slap on it."

He threw his spoon into the bowl and we smacked our hands together.

* * *

"Ice cream? Check. Bad movies? Check. Pizza? Check. Video games? Check."

"Talking to yourself again? First sign of loneliness." Rose waltzed in from the kitchen, buried behind boxes of cheese twists. Her voice was muffled.

"Just want to make sure we have everything. Once I'm in a food coma, there is no moving. Physically. Really, I can't."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh my gosh, you fattie."

"Settle, All American girl. I've seen you down a can of soda in a minute."

She shuddered. "I feel queasy."

"Now? Lightweight. Speaking of…beer?"

"Way ahead of you." She pointed underneath the coffee table.

Overall, the night was nice. We played games. We devoured every inch of the giant pizza, even the questionable green rings neither of us could figure out. We watched bad movies, and lugged cheese twists at actors in particularly cheesy scenes.

When Rose began to nod off against the pillows, I suggested wrapping the night up.

"Hey." Rose set the ice cream back on the kitchen counter, and caught my arm.

"Thanks."

I raised my eyebrows. "For?"

"Being you. Attempting to cheer me up. Not going anywhere. All that stuff."

"Mmmm. This 'stuff' is giving me diabetes."

She shoved me. "Jerk. Can't you be serious for a moment?"

"Now we're back to us."

I leaned against the counter, and crossed my arms. "All jokes aside, no need for the thank you. I'm happy to do it. As long as you do it for me when I'm in a particularly shitty mood, no questions asked."

"Deal."

We smiled at each other. And then, something changed. The moment lingered. The smiles lasted a heartbeat longer than normal. The sliver between us grew thick, heady, charged.

"Dimitri-"

He kissed me. He leaned down, grabbed my face between his hands, and kissed me. Tentatively, slowly, barely a brush at first, and then deeper.

And I kissed him back.

Until…until, I couldn't.

This was Dimitri. A guy I had called a friend for years. A guy who had been my best friend for so long. And now he was kissing me, with such fervour that it seemed like he always wanted to, like he had always dreamed of kissing me. Things were going to change. What if he broke my heart? What if I broke his heart?

I jerked away. His eyes shimmered with pain. His hands slackened.

"I-" I grabbed the ice cream, and walked to the fridge. I was trembling. He followed. His big, formidable presence stood behind my turned back, not walking away, staying close, an inch away. Adrian had always walked away. This, this was different. The warmth of his body was intoxicating, keeping me rooted to the spot.

I swallowed.

"Rose."

One word. One word, and I was gone. I turned, and dropped the ice cream. He slammed me against the fridge, and muttered something when the magnets cluttered to the linoleum floor. And then, I kissed him.

* * *

"We should probably move to the bedroom."

He pulled away, and looked down at me quizzically. "Are you kidding me? I'm not going anywhere."

I shook my head. "This seems almost…unsanitary. Lying on the kitchen floor, no clothes. God, the germs!" I buried my head into his shoulder, brushing my lips against the skin there.

He chuckled, and pressed his mouth to the top of my head. "Will you stop being your responsible self for two minutes and just enjoy this?"

I pulled the sheet around me, and leaned up on an elbow, watching him. His eyes were as brown as ever, staring back into mine, his smile luminous.

"How long have you wanted this?"

"This? For-ever, dude." He punctuated the word with a fist pump.

"Hey!" I slapped his chest.

He laughed. "I've wanted you for a long time."

"Why didn't you try anything before?"

He ran a fingertip along my cheekbone, and murmured quietly, "Because of Adrian. Because the timing was never right."

"How long have you loved me?"

And the answer was simple. "Always."

* * *

"Mmmm." I pulled away from his kiss. "We've been at this for hours, and we're still on the floor."

"I'm starving. Food is here. Why would I move?"

"Yes sir, but food requires cooking. Sometimes."

He kissed me again, and then groaned. We reluctantly started to dress. I pulled his shirt over my head, and inhaled his aftershave, still humming, still remembering what had transpired.

"You're going to cook like that?" I glanced down at my outfit.

"Ironic question that, isn't it, Comrade?" I pointedly stared at his bare chest.

He came at me, fast and grinning. His arms slipped around my waist. "Good luck getting anything done." He brushed his lips over my bare shoulder.

We managed to scrape together enough to make pancakes, and procured some jam from the back of the fridge. I sat on top of the benchtop and hummed. His legs swung off the edge of the benchtop.

"Not bad for a night's work, partner." I licked my fingers.

The smile he gave me crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Partner?"

"Always."

Then, my plate was being taken out of my hands, and he had hopped down from the bench. He came to stand between my legs as I slipped my arms around his neck. His bare body was warm, and hard. His fingers grasped my waist, and pulled me closer, inching him closer. My hands twisted into his hair as he kissed my neck, gently, pulling his shirt away, exposing a valley of skin for his lips. My lips trembled, my stomach churning.

"Wait." The shirt was off. I was barely breathing. "Should we move to the-"

His eyes blazed, his hands clasped tight around my body. "Bedroom? Worrying about being unsanitary and unhygienic?" He voice was quiet. "Give me a moment."

I moaned.

* * *

"Okay, we've done it in every room of the apartment. And I've been wearing nothing for days."

Rose stirred her soup, and then turned the heat up on the stove.

"It's those stupid dresses."

She raised her eyebrows. "This one?"

It was a short, blue, silk dress. Touching her whilst she wore it was like holding a newborn, or like touching a cloud. She was soft. And incredibly arousing.

I turned to her as she came to a rest next to me. The kiss we shared was languid. She wasn't wrong. We had nothing but…it…for days. When we were doing that, we were cooking. Watching movies. Then making love all over again. If there was a world outside of the little one we had created, I didn't know whether I wanted to go back.

It felt like heaven. All my dreams of her, of us, were finally reality. Almost to the point where, I'd be scared to close my eyes, and sometimes to wake up, terrified, scared she wouldn't be next to me when I woke. That she was dream. An illusion.

I brushed her hair back. "You're beautiful."

She smiled, and slipped her arms around my neck. She was short, so I pulled her up, so she could straddle me. Much better.

"Keep going."

I clasped her face between my hands, and kissed her throat. "Intelligent."

"Mmmmm."

My lips moved to the skin near her ear. "Funny."

Other ear.

Eye. The other one too.

Nose.

Cheek.

Cheek.

She wasn't breathing. My lips hovered over hers for a moment. Her lips trembled. "Incredible."

The whistle on the pressure cooker went off, shattering the moment.

She tried to pry herself away from me. My hands held on tighter. She wriggled, and writhed. "I have to check it."

I picked her up, still straddling me, and carried her over to the stove. She popped the cooker opened, and scooped a spoonful out.

"How does it taste?"

I licked my lips. "Mmmmm. Needs salt."

"Oh yes? You sure?"

I nodded solemnly. She kissed me, deeply, and then licked her lips. Dangerously sexy.

"Mmmm. Salt."

"Are we going to be one of those couples who do the eat and taste thing?"

"Oh, yes."

"Agreed."

"Now, to the pantry, commandant. Onward, Jeeves!"

* * *

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" We yelled at the same time. We shook our heads, and launched into a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

"Water balloon is real, I swear!" I threw my hands up.

She snorted. "Please, you got that from Friends! I _watched_ that episode with you."

"Yeah, but see, they adapt-"

The door swung open, and there stood…Adrian.

Rose's hand on the doorknob turned bone white. So had her face. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was slack.

"Rose? Hey." His eyes swiftly took her in, noting the dress. A little desire, mingled with remorse lay there. He cleared his throat. "Um, Rose?"

She didn't say anything. I wasn't even sure she was breathing.

I stepped around her, and gently pulled Adrian away.

"Listen, Rose isn't really in a chatty mood-" And then, little hands were shoving me away, and had promptly slapped Adrian's face.

I froze.

"How dare you? How dare you come here, and say, "Hey?" Her voice was clear, sharp, angry. She shoved him back. Tears glittered in her eyes.

"Rose, I didn't mean to-"

She was shouting. "You didn't mean to what? Cheat on me? Deceive me? Fuck me over?"

Adrian faltered. His voice grew small. "I'm sorry."

Rose shook her head slightly, and then grabbed my hand, taking a few steps back. "Too late," she mouthed.

The door slammed on Adrian's hurt expression.

I leaned against Dimitri's frame, burying my head into his chest. My emotions were wild. What had just happened?

That's why it took me so long to realise something was wrong. Something had shifted. I realised something. He was cold. He wasn't touching me.

I peered up at him. "What?"

He pulled my hands away from his neck. "What the hell was that?"

"Huh?"

"Grabbing my hand? Going, "Too late"?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

His jaw turned hard. "Rose, what was this to you? Was I the rebound?" His tone turned incredulous. Biting sarcasm. "Something to distract you from the pain? Something to make-" He glared at the door. "-him, jealous?"

I hesitated. And that spoke volumes.

"Damn it, Rose!"

And then, he was gone too.

* * *

The door slammed. I jumped.

"Dimitri?"

He walked toward the kitchen. I ran to him, and wrapped my arms around him. He didn't respond.

"Dimitri, I'm sorry." I hiccupped.

His hands gently, but firmly, removed my arms from around him. He headed to his bedroom, and emerged a few seconds later with his backpack.

I closed my eyes. "Dimitri…don't."

"I have to."

I moved closer to him. My robe came undone, and I left it like that. His eyes noticed the movement, and his defences faltered.

"I have to." Whisper.

I kissed him. His lips responded, barely. "Dimitri, I love you." He shook. "Can't you see that?"

My tears stained his shirt. I grasped his hand, and slipped it under my robe, over my heart. "You're mine, big man."

He blinked. Then his hands were around my waist, and he hiked me up to straddle his hips. His kisses were terrifying, filled with such desperate, aching, hurt love that I shuddered with unshed tears. He slipped the robe off my shoulders, and swung me around onto the benchtop.

* * *

When I came to, he was buttoning his shirt. His eyes were trained forward, and his fingers were working quickly upwards.

"Hey."

"Hey." That wasn't Dimitri. It was cold. Too cold.

And then, I saw everything else. His bag was slung onto his back.

"I'm leaving. I'll come back for the rest of my stuff in a few days."

I fumbled to wrap the sheet around me, suddenly so vulnerable, so naked, so hurt. He was walking, fast, toward the door.

I grabbed him just as he swung the door open. "Where are you going?"

He hiked the bag up, and glanced down. "Anywhere. Anywhere but here."

"We can work this out. What we just did…it meant something to you. I know it did. You-you love me." My throat was throbbing, my eyes stinging.

He shook his head. "I don't love you. Not anymore."

"How can you leave me behind?" I could barely recognise this person.

He snapped. "Because I can't stand here another moment, in this place with you, with all these memories! It hurts too much!"

I had never heard him shout before. He was always the annoying good-humoured person with a well-placed quip during tense situations. That's when I realised things were over. Things had changed. He had changed. It was like a verbal slap. I was speechless.

"Dimitri-"

And then, he was gone.

* * *

I came back a few days later, like I had promised, to take my things. I had called in advance, and her response had been curt.

Packing the things in my room wasn't supposed to take that long, but I found myself pausing. Waiting. Listening for her footsteps in the hallway. Her face had been so broken, so hurt, that walking out on her had been the hardest thing I had ever done. I had never left her like that, never not comforted her. I had been with her, comforting her when Adrian had thrown her away, even though my heart breaking.

Now, there was nothing left of me.

I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't believe her love.

Slowly, I realised something was wrong. Things were missing. Come to think of it…I hadn't left things like this in my room. Things were too neat. My pillow didn't smell like my own. It smelled like…her.

I stormed out into the kitchen, and then I stopped. Music was playing, upstairs.

The roof was almost empty, save for a small figure in the corner. Candles were lit, and the music was low. She turned, and then walked toward me, out of the shadows.

She was wearing a red silk dress, one I had only seen her wear once. My favourite.

She crossed her arms. "All done?" There was no warmth, no tone in her voice.

"Just about."

And then I noticed. Her face. Her eyes were red. Her hands were shaking. Her lips trembled.

"Go then."

I turned.

And then I stopped.

"Why did you go into my room?"

"What?"

"Why did you go into my room?"

She was puzzled. One of the last things I would say to her, and she didn't understand why I was asking. Neither did I.

It was simple. "Because I missed you. Because it was the only thing left of you."

My heart broke. Tears ached in my throat. I was shaking. I moved closer to her, so close I could smell her sweet scent. She was so small, so vulnerable. "Damn it, Rose, I loved you. I _loved_ you. How could you do that to me?"

She shook her head. "I wanted Adrian to know how much he had hurt me, true. But I also wanted something new with you. Why do you think things with Adrian never worked out?"

"Because he's a philandering man whore?"

Her voice was earnest. "No. Because I couldn't fully commit. Because I couldn't give myself to him."

Whoa. "What?"

"I never slept with him."

I recoiled. "But…what?"

Her hands were on my face now. Shaking, warm. I didn't step away. "Of course, you idiot. I have never loved anyone like I love you. I've loved you for so long, it _hurts_ when you're not around. I've only ever had you, and I've only ever wanted it with you. I only want it with you."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, so I kissed them away. I kissed her cheeks, I kissed her closed eyelids. I kissed her.

"I love you." My voice was barely above a whisper. My hands refused to leave her body, to stop touching her.

She was heartbreakingly real. And mine.

"And I love you, big man."

The chuckle I responded with reverberated through the both of us.

"What now?"

* * *

**Hey guys! Long time, no see. I'm at the end of my year, and I need a hobby. I realised that I haven't written in a while. Passing my subjects this year was so important that I neglected everything else. **

**I'm sorry.**

**I hope you can accept this long short as my penance!**


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